The Labyrinth of London: A Study in Glitter
by FarGreenCountrySwiftSunrise
Summary: Jareth is not the Goblin King, but the world's only magical consulting detective. Sarah is a magical healer who is in need of healing herself. Jareth needs a flatmate. Sarah needs a place to stay. There is a serial killer on the loose. Shenanigans ensue. Beginnings of J/S.
1. Prologue

The Labyrinth of London

A Study in Glitter

A Sherlock/Labyrinth Crossover

Inspired By

"The Thin White Sleuth..."

By

Pika-la-Cynique

Summary: Jareth is not the Goblin King, but the world's only magical consulting detective. Sarah is a magical healer who is in need of healing herself. Jareth needs a flatmate. Sarah needs a place to stay. There is a serial killer on the loose. Shenanigans ensue.

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame. I was shocked to find that there were no fanfics on either or Achieve of Our Own. I have decided to remedy this. I can only promise one episode at a time. Nothing more. Sarah's adventure takes place in 1998 instead of 1986 so as to better match up with the _Sherlock_ universe (though there is still an eighties feel to Jareth during their time together). Enjoy!

&%&%&%&

Prologue

"Sarah, would you pass the tobacco ash?" Jareth asked.

"Of course. Please pass the riding crop. A goblin is just out of my reach and he is about to get into one of your experiments," Sarah said.

They swapped items. Jareth, the former Goblin King, examined the ash under a microscope at the dining room table while Sarah Williams, Champion of the Labyrinth, knocked the goblin off the top of a bookshelf. She sat back at the table, pushed aside a jar containing a brain and continued eating her Nutella smothered bagel.

"Did you get your key from Mrs. Hudson?" Jareth asked.

Sarah replied, "Yes and my visa issues are cleared up and I told my parents my new address: 221B Baker Street. Anymore issues with that serial killer cabbie?"

"Not a word from Lestrade," Jareth said, "though Mycroft is making a big fuss over it."

"Maybe the concept of 'Chilly Down' needs to be explained to him."

"Oh, it was explained but he explained where he was going to stick his umbrella if I did not behave."

"Are you sure you don't want Nutella?"

"It is not polite for me to eat it in front of company."

"I'm your flatmate. Not company."

"When I eat it, it is so undignified that I would not eat it in front of the goblins."

"Have you seen our flat? Did you ever look at your throne room?"

"Have you seen my closet?"

"Good point."

Jareth paused from his examination and said, "This is a bit surreal, isn't it?"

"Sharing a flat with a crime solving Fae? Yeah, I'd say so."

"I was referring more to the fact that we are enemies and are now sharing a flat."

"I still think mine is stranger."


	2. Chapter I: The Babe with the Power

Chapter I: The Babe with the Power

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

_Nine Days Earlier_

Sarah Williams was not used to nightmares. She guessed long ago that it was one of the gifts the Goblin King had bestowed on her. However, ever since she was injured, nightmares chased her in every dream.

They were always changing. Some were from the war itself. The war dreams mainly consisted of people she could not save or the events that caused her to be injured. Some were of the Labyrinth where some of her friends and even the Goblin King were killed. (The Goblin King dreams happened more often than Sarah cared to admit.) The worst dreams were of her baby brother being killed in either of those places.

Sarah would wake up screaming no matter what.

&%&%&%

There were no psychologists currently in the know of magical powers in the Above that could help Sarah. To keep her small grasp of sanity, she had to go to a shrink who would lock her in an asylum if the good doctor knew that the Champion of the Labyrinth still had tea with a dwarf, a fox, and a monster who called upon the rocks.

"You want me to write a blog?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, to get your feelings out there and to receive assistance from other people like you," the psychologist said.

"No one is like me," Sarah said.

"You won't know until you reach out," the doctor said.

&%&%&%

Sarah had been living in London for over a month. Though her family would have been more than willing to help her, she knew that they would only be confused by why she was complaining of an injured leg with no wounds. She was shot in the shoulder, after all.

The magicians in London, however, knew better. Not that they were able to do anything for her leg. (Even the citizens of the Labyrinth did not know what to do about her leg.) They did not think that Sarah was crazy and that was what she needed most.

One of these magicians was a Dr. Stamford. He was a kind man with three daughters aged 5, 8, and 11. The girls were fond of Sarah, her stories, and her long hair that was perfect for braiding. Because of Sarah's bond with his daughters, Dr. Stamford had been on the look-out for a way for Sarah to remain in London, a city which had quickly claimed Sarah's heart with its people, stories, twists and turns.

The two new friends sat in Russell Square. Stamford was on his lunch break and Sarah was enjoying the fresh air. Both were wishing they could slap the tourist feeding the rats with wings.

"You know, in that corner of the garden over there was where the idea of splitting the atom was discovered," Dr. Stamford said.

"Look how well that turned out," Sarah grumbled.

"Why are you so glum today?" Dr. Stamford asked.

"No one will hire me and I can't find a place to stay," Sarah said, "I have three days left in the little hostel they set me up in. I've tried getting a job, but no one wants to deal with a crippled American with no job prospects. With that in mind, who'd want me for a flatmate?"

"You know, you're the second person to say that to me today," Dr. Stamford said, "I think the two of you might get along. Do you mind having a man as a flatmate?"

"Depends if he can keep his hands to himself," Sarah said.

"He is a perfect gentleman, as far as I and my colleagues know," Dr. Stamford said.

"I think I may take a flat with anyone at this point, even a goblin," Sarah said.

&%&%&%

St. Bartholomew's Hospital was a magical place. It was not so, originally, but the influence of J. M. Barrie infected the hospital so thoroughly, that it was the best place in England to deal with magical medical mysteries. All of the best magicians, Fae, and ordinary doctors worked together to make the world a better place.

When those people failed, the bodies were sent to Ms. Molly Hooper, one of only three coroners allowed to examine magically contaminated bodies in England. She was an expert in her field and cared deeply about others.

Molly firmly told herself that the reason she was fetching tea and reports for this particular Fae was purely out of a general sense of good will to all living things, and not from a mild infatuation with his cheekbones. She learned that crushes led nowhere from her previous attachment to a certain curly haired brunette who also had marvelous cheekbones...

"Oh, Ms. Hooper, how nice to see you," Dr. Stamford said.

"Afternoon Dr. Stamford," Molly said.

Molly liked Dr. Stamford. He did not send her bodies to her as often as the other doctors. He was kind and never forgot to send her a family Christmas card. His girls were a bit of brats, but then everyone is at one point in life or another.

"This is Sarah Williams, a friend of mine," Dr. Stamford said, "Sarah Williams, Molly Hooper, the best coroner in London."

"Well, I wouldn't say the best," Molly said shyly.

"Nice to meet you," Sarah said, switching her cane to her other hand so she could shake Molly's hand.

"Nice to meet you too," Molly said, "American, are you?"

"Yes," Sarah said.

"Welcome to England," Molly said.

"Do you know where the rascal is?" Dr. Stamford asked.

"I'm just bringing him some tea and reports. Follow me," Molly said.

"What's his experiment this time?" Dr. Stamford asked.

"A riding crop and the marks that are formed after ten minutes," Molly said.

"A riding crop?" Sarah asked with a snort.

"Yes, apparently it deals with a case," Molly said. Her phone buzzed and played "Accident" by the Baha Men, "Oh, bugger, I need to run. He's probably set something on fire. See you two later."

As Molly ran to the library to stop whatever disaster the Fae had started, she could faintly here Sarah say, "A riding crop? What would anyone need to perform an experiment with a riding crop?"

&%&%&%

"St. Bartholomew's has an extensive library of magical illnesses and curses, eleventh largest in the world and the second largest in London. People come from all over the world to study the knowledge kept here," Dr. Stamford said.

"And the hospital owns the rights to _Peter Pan_," Sarah said.

"That's actually why it has such magic," Dr. Stamford said.

"Really? I do believe in fairies and all of that?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," Dr. Stamford said, "I think they might let you work here, actually. I'll see into it."

"Thanks Dr. Stamford. I don't want to put you out. You have already done so much for me," Sarah said.

"You're not putting me out, girl. You are the only person that my girls will behave for besides my wife and me," Dr. Stamford said.

"I'm just a new toy to play with," Sarah said as they continued through the passages of books. "This library is a maze."

"More like a labyrinth," a new, but familiar, voice said.

Sarah froze. She wanted to run, fight, or throw up. All she could do, though, was stand there while her leg revolted in agony from the adrenaline coursing through her.

A blonde man, whose wild hair was pulled back into a pony tail, was facing away from her at a desk, surrounded by books and papers. He wore a white dress shirt and black vest. He tapped his cup of tea and sighed.

"I need something stronger than this," Jareth said, "Sarah, you would not happen to have some Goblin ale with you, would you?

&%&%&%

A/N: I have actually been to Russell Square where _Sherlock_ shot the Stamford/Watson meeting for "A Study in Pink" and the story about the atom is true. Visit, it is a lovely garden and is near the British Museum. The bench they sat on, however, was made specifically for that scene so you won't be able to sit where they sat.

I have also walked by St. Bart's, but it was before they began shooting Season 2.


	3. Chapter II: The Flatmate

Chapter II: The Flatmate

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

The former Goblin King truly wondered how in the world his laptop could catch on fire, despite the fact that he had not even turned it on yet. Jareth had just bought it two days before. He knew that the Fae had problems with technology, but this felt like the technology gods had a personal vendetta against him.

Fortunately, M... Margret? Mary? Mary Margret? Martha? M... Molly! was more than willing to help him in his technological issues. She also made a decent cup of tea.

"Honestly, what do you do to these poor things?" Molly asked, poking the computer with a pencil.

"I exist and they do not wish to exist with me," Jareth mumbled.

"Stamford is looking for you," Molly said.

"Really? He generally is not in need of my expertise and I spoke with him just this morning," Jareth said. He flipped through the file Molly gave him. "Definitely not a Fae weapon. It would have bruised far more easily."

"Does that answer who did it?" Molly asked.

"Not at all," Jareth said.

"Well, I hope you find out. Have a nice day," Molly said.

"Thanks for the corpse," Jareth said.

Jareth felt like he was hit with a wall a moment later. He knew that magic. He had not felt that magic in thirteen years. But there was no mistaking it. It was her. It was his Sarah.

Well, not his Sarah. She had made that very clear at their last meeting. _Painfully _clear.

Jareth decided to play it "cool". Yes, that was the word the mortals used. Cool. Yes, he would play it cool.

He could hear Sarah speaking with Stamford.

Dr. Stamford said, "I think they might let you work here, actually. I'll see into it."

"Thanks Dr. Stamford. I don't want to put you out. You have already done so much for me," Sarah said. (_She sounds just as lovely as ever, though definitely more grown up.) _Jareth could have sworn he felt the Labyrinth's magic, but it was a passing feeling.

"You're not putting me out, girl. You are the only person that my girls will behave for besides my wife and me," Dr. Stamford said. (_Those brats? Sarah has to have gained some magic that is beyond me.)_

"I'm just a new toy to play with. This library is a maze," Sarah said.

_Oh, she would say something like that. _

"More like a labyrinth," Jareth said.

He immediately regretted this. Jareth felt the pain that was coursing through Sarah. The fear he caused her made the pain worse. She associated the pain with him. _Does Sarah realize that she is projecting her feelings? I need to get her mind off the pain._

"I need something stronger than this," Jareth said, "Sarah dear, you would not happen to have some Goblin ale with you, would you?"

Suddenly, the fire in Sarah ignited. "You have no power over me!"

Jareth grinned. There was his Sarah. Not his Sarah. Just Sarah. Just Sarah.

"That has not changed since you spoke those words," Jareth said.

Jareth turned around and wanted to smile triumphantly, but his face fell when he saw the state Sarah was in. She was leaning on an aluminum cane heavily. There were almost healed cuts on her face that had obviously been gashes a few weeks earlier. She looked tired. Above all, she was trying desperately to hide this. The only reason he did not gather in her arms was that Sarah had that defiant glare that had a tendency to cause kingdoms to crumble.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?" Jareth asked.

"You should know!" Sarah shouted, "You're goblins did this to me, Goblin King!"

Jareth growled and stalked up to Sarah. "How dare you use that title? Do you want to rub the loss of my kingdom in my face for some sin I did not commit?"

"What the hell are you talking about Jareth?" Sarah growled just as fiercely, "You are the one and only Goblin King. I think my friends would have told me that you were out and about snatching babies without the aid of the Labyrinth."

"I don't just go 'out and about snatching babies'," Jareth said, "Spoiled little girls wish them away and I merely show them their dreams, even if they do spit on it."

Sarah hobbled backwards and leaned her weight against a shelf. She raised her cane. "Take one step towards me and I will whack you over the head Goblin King!"

Jareth grabbed his riding crop/scepter. _There is the fight in her._ "Sarah, I do have several centuries on you. I really doubt you would win in a fair fight."

"Well, someone taught me that life isn't fair," Sarah said as she attempted to hit Jareth in a rather sensitive area.

"Stop it! Both of you," Dr. Stamford said sternly, "You two are acting as if you are children."

"Did he put you up to this?" Sarah asked, swinging her cane towards Stamford.

"I didn't know you knew each other," Dr. Stamford said, "And certainly not that you had wished away your brother."

"Then why am I here?" Sarah asked.

"Jareth said that he needed a flatmate and you need a flat," Dr. Stamford said, "That's all. There is no ill will intended."

"You need a flat?" Jareth asked. He quickly kidnapped and stuffed all carnal thoughts and threw them into an oubliette. There would be time for that later. He needed to know what was wrong with Sarah and why she needed a flat in London when her family was in the United States.

"That is none of your business," Sarah said.

_Is that a little, hope? Pull yourself together. Don't count your goblins until the Runner has lost._

Jareth certainly could not let such an opportunity pass. "It is if you are considering sharing a flat with me," Jareth said, "We need to know what annoying habits the other has. I play music late at night and become contemplative for days on end. You turn my subjects against me and knock down cities. Little things like that."

"I am not sharing a flat with you," Sarah said.

"You said you would share a flat with a goblin, why not with a former Goblin King?" Dr. Stamford said with a shrug.

"You don't know our history," Sarah said.

"I don't need to," Dr. Stamford said, "It's this or leaving London and I know you won't leave London."

"In a bit of a pinch, Sarah?" asked Jareth, smiling wickedly.

"Nothing as bad as say, the Cleaners. I want to know how in the world you got here and why I don't know about it," Sarah said.

"And I would like to know how you were not informed of this and why you think the goblins injured you," Jareth said.

Jareth could taste Sarah's curiosity. She was no longer afraid of him. Her pain had subsided. This pleased him immensely. Sarah was still Sarah after all these years.

At that moment, Jareth realized a detail he had missed on the case he was working on. With a grin, he went over to the desk he was using and began to gather his things.

"What in the world are you doing?" Sarah asked.

"I have business to attend to; a murder to solve," Jareth said, "The riding crop could only have been grabbed by someone who was in the stables between 11:03 and 11:13. It was a crime of passion. That leaves only one suspect."

"You can't just leave like this," Sarah said.

"Of course I can," Jareth said, "Tomorrow, 4 o'clock, 221B Baker Street. You can decide if you're going to take the flat."

"I am not sharing a flat with you!" Sarah said.

"I have no power over you Sarah," Jareth said, "I cannot force you to go, but you obviously want to stay in London and I am your best shot. Besides, you probably would rather stay with the devil you know..."

Jareth shrugged on his suit jacket and then his coat. When he pulled on his scarf, he sensed that Sarah was not displeased with his appearance. _Maybe I should have been more subtle with my wardrobe last time._ "Call upon your friends and see if they will answer you. Have a good day Sarah. Good afternoon Dr. Stamford."

The Fae resisted skipping out of the library. He had seen Sarah, solved a murder, and was going to see her again the next day.

His Sarah was going to visit 221B Baker Street.

_Oh, bloody hell. Mrs. Hudson is going to go into convulsions if I forget to mention guests are coming over again._

&%&%&%

A/N: I am sorry I was not able to post on time. I will post two chapters today to make up for the missed deadline. I am sorry for making you wait.

Yes, Sarah's injury and why Jareth is in London will be explained. Just not now.

Also, the whole laptop catching on fire thing has happened to me three times. I have a tendency to have electronics die in dramatic ways. Why this is happening to Jareth will be explained later... mostly.


	4. Chapter III: The Mirror in 221B Baker St

Chapter III: The Mirror in 221B Baker Street

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

Sarah barricaded herself in the hostel bathroom, much to the other guests' displeasure. She needed privacy and this was the best she could do.

"Hoggle, I need you," Sarah said.

Hoggle appeared in the mirror. "Sarah, how are you healing?"

"Where is the Goblin King?" Sarah asked.

"In the Castle beyond the Goblin City," Hoggle said.

"Maybe I'm not asking the right question," Sarah said, "Where's Jareth?"

Hoggle released a croak as his jaw dropped. "Uh, well, he's... not here."

"Let me guess, he's in London," Sarah said.

"How did you... You ran into him," Hoggle said.

"Yes, and apparently he needs a flatmate and no longer is King of the Goblins," Sarah said, "Tell me what is going on Hoggle."

There was a heavy knocking on the bathroom door. "If you don't get out of there Williams, I am kicking you out of the hostel faster than you can blink poppet," the owner yelled.

"Quickly," Sarah hissed.

"Jareth was removed from his throne by the Fae Courts after your run," Hoggle said.

"I can't be the first person to win," Sarah said.

"You ain't," Hoggle said, "Jareth was too... involved."

"Williams!"

"I have to go Hoggle. I am going to talk to you tomorrow. Probably when I meet with Jareth," Sarah said.

Hoggle nodded and disappeared. Sarah quickly opened a bottle of air taken from the Bog of Eternal Stench. Fortunately, unlike the water, it did eventually fade after a few hours.

"Sorry, Didn't want to kill anyone with my use of the loo," Sarah said as she removed the barricades on the door.

&%&%&%

Sarah stood in front of 221B Baker Street. She was uncertain if she was supposed to knock or not. Jareth might just magically open the door just to try to scare her. Or have her walk through the door and cause her to fall into an oubliette. Or have her run into some of the Fire Gang. The Labyrinth (and presumably Jareth) liked to keep things interesting.

As Sarah Williams contemplated the risk versus benefits of how she approached the door, Jareth stepped out of a cab behind her. He was wearing a similar outfit as the day before, only this time with a green scarf instead of a blue one. _Subconscious or conscious choice? OVER THINKING IT SARAH!_

"Afternoon Sarah," Jareth said.

"Jareth," Sarah said with a nod.

"I like the hat," Jareth said.

"It was Toby's," Sarah said tugging at the red and white striped hat, "He wanted me to have it as a good luck charm."

"Hmmm... no doubt," Jareth said walking briskly to the door and knocked, "Mrs. Hudson is the landlady. She is giving me a special deal. She owes me a favor. A few years back her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out."

"You stopped her husband from being executed?" Sarah asked.

Sarah saw Jareth grin like his goblins. "Oh, no. I ensured it."

"Hello Jareth," an older lady said when she opened the door.

"Mrs. Hudson," Jareth said hugging the woman. _Jareth hugging an old lady. Sense - 0. Insanity - 1. _"This is Sarah Williams. She's looking into sharing the flat."

"Hello, come in," Mrs. Hudson said as Sarah hobbled her way into 221B.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Sarah said, eyeing the older lady warily. Obviously, anyone who could stand to live under the same roof as Jareth was not to be trusted, even without the knowledge that her husband was essentially whacked.

"I already have the tea upstairs. It appears you have some other visitors waiting," Mrs. Hudson said.

"Why am I not surprised?" Jareth said with a sigh. He quickly ascended the stairs and waited for Sarah and Mrs. Hudson to join him.

Jareth opened the door for Sarah. It was rather easy to draw comparisons between the throne room and this place. She wondered if the mess was already here or if it was purely Jareth's doing. She guessed that he made it from the musical instruments and ancient looking books though the beakers and test tubes were not something Sarah associated with the Goblin King.

Then she saw the mirror over the mantelpiece. Inside were three familiar faces.

"Ludo! Sir Didymus! Hoggle! How did you know where to find me?" Sarah asked.

The three appeared in the room behind where Sarah was standing. Sir Didymus sat on a pile of papers. Ludo sat on the floor. Hoggle was sitting in one of the armchairs. Jareth sat in another, sprawled out.

"Yes, Hogbrain, how did you know where Sarah would be?" Jareth said.

"It's Hoggle and we have always known where the former Goblin King is," Hoggle said.

"Sit down, Sarah," Mrs. Hudson said, "You're making my bad hip hurt just looking at you. How would everyone like their tea?"

"Heavy on the bourbon," Jareth said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sugar then," Mrs. Hudson said, "Let's see if I remember... a bit of cream for Hoggle, a bit of honey for Sir Didymus, and a biscuit for Ludo. What would you like Sarah?"

"Cream and sugar," Sarah said.

Sarah sat down on the sofa and looked at the strange site. There was the Goblin King dressed like a bored business man (though no tie and the top two buttons undone) glaring at a dwarf, a fox/dog, and a rock caller all the while Mrs. Hudson made tea. Sarah expected reality to crack.

"That will be all Mrs. Hudson," Jareth said.

"Will you be needing two bedrooms?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"I never said I was taking this flat and if I did, it would definitely be two bedrooms," Sarah said.

"No need to fuss," Mrs. Hudson said, "It would take someone who really loved Jareth to put up with him on a daily basis."

"Or a goblin constitution," Sarah said as she took her tea.

"Jareth, you've left the kitchen a mess again," Mrs. Hudson said, scurrying over to the piles of things in the kitchen.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Sarah asked, "I googled Jareth and he has been mucking about in police business for about a decade now. Why isn't he in the Labyrinth? Hoggle hinted that it dealt with my run."

"Well, my lady," Sir Didymus said, "You are not the first to win the Labyrinth, but you are the first to remove yourself from the Goblin King's power."

"You see, the Goblin King is in charge of all wishers," Hoggle said, "and apparently you told Jareth that he had no power over him or something like that. We weren't exactly allowed into the trial proceedings."

"Yes, yes, let's skip that," Jareth said, "Essentially, Sarah, I was a liability. I was given the... pink slip if you will and sent to this mortal realm with a far smaller amount of magic than I used to have."

"And only when he is permitted to use them," Hoggle said.

"Why would it matter if I wasn't under your power? I'm one wisher," Sarah asked.

"A wisher with powers that could not be directly controlled by the courts while I was in power," Jareth said, "With the new Goblin King, none of that matters."

"Who is the new Goblin King?" Sarah asked.

"King Rossetti," said Sir Didymus, "a good king, much like our previous one."

"Flattery will only lead to more tea invitations," Jareth said.

"I merely speak the truth," Sir Didymus said.

"So, Jareth isn't the Goblin King?" Sarah asked.

"The goblins still visit him and they make a horrid mess," Mrs. Hudson said from the kitchen.

"No one said I could not have company in my exile," Jareth said.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Sarah asked.

"The Courts worried you might... repeat the previous incident," Hoggle said.

"Oh," Sarah said, "But why would I unless I was trying to get Toby back again?"

Jareth had a strange look on his face for a moment and then shook his head. "It doesn't matter to the Courts."

"Will they come after Toby and the rest of you now?" Sarah asked.

"Doubtful," the four men said together.

"It has been thirteen years. It is unlikely the Goblin King's magic would be unstable now. In fact, the King has given extra attention to controlling your ability to remove power from you. We will keep our ears and eyes open for any trouble my lady," Sir Didymus said, "I am afraid that we must return to our posts. There is a runner coming through in a few minutes. Farewell, my lord, my lady."

Sir Didymus bowed and left through the mirror. Ludo patted Sarah on the head and left as well. Hoggle and Jareth glared at each other for a few moments before Hoggle hugged Sarah goodbye.

"He can't hurt you, Toby, or any of your family. I can't come to you for the next thirteen hours, but you should be safe," Hoggle said.

"Thank you Hoggle," Sarah said.

Hoggle pointed a finger at Jareth. "And you, don't you ever be the cause of hurt for Sarah. You ain't king anymore and I will come after you."

Jareth nodded to the dwarf. "I would not expect otherwise."

Hoggle left 221B Baker Street leaving Jareth and Sarah alone in the living room while Mrs. Hudson fussed about the kitchen.

&%&%&%

"So, Sarah, how do you like my flat?" Jareth said, grinning.

"Not as cake-like as the Labyrinth, to be sure," Sarah said, "What do you get out of this?"

"Get out of what, Sarah?" Jareth asked.

"Having me here," Sarah said, "Is this some sort of weird and slow revenge or something?"

"Sarah, if I wanted revenge, I would have had that pleasure over a decade ago," Jareth said walking towards the windows, "I would have found a way around having no power over you."

"What did Hoggle mean by the fact that you can only use magic when you are permitted?" Sarah asked.

Jareth was about to answer when Mrs. Hudson came into the living room with a newspaper. "What about these suicides Jareth? They seem to be your type of case. Three exactly the same," Mrs. Hudson said.

Jareth raised an eyebrow at something he saw out the window. "Four. There's been a fourth... but there's been something different this time."

"Fourth?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

A silver-haired man bounded up the stairs and into the living room. He was well-dressed though his suit was cheap. He looked a tad familiar to Sarah.

"Where?" Jareth asked.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens," the man said.

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to me otherwise," Jareth said.

"Two things. You know how they never leave notes? This one did. She's also part Fae which means that there is something beyond normal forensics that is going on. Will you come?"

"Who's on forensics?" Jareth asked.

"Anderson," the man said.

"He doesn't work well with me."

"Well, he won't be your assistant."

"I need an assistant," Jareth growled.

"Like you have missed out on a puzzle before because you didn't have an assistant. Will you come?"

"Not in a police car, I'll be right behind," Jareth said.

"Thank you," the man said. He paused and looked at Sarah, "Are you Sarah Williams? In Manchester about two years ago?"

"Yes, why?" Sarah asked.

"I'm Detective Lestrade. Thomas Barrowman is my nephew. You fixed him up after a banshee attack," the man said, shaking Sarah's hand.

"I remember Thomas. He's a good man. Is he still involved in the family funeral home?" Sarah asked.

"Still is, yeah," Lestrade said, "Bring Williams along, Jareth. She's a healer and might be able to help you."

"Oh, what a lovely idea," Jareth said with a smirk.

"I'm not helping you Jareth," Sarah said, "and why in the world would you need a healer if the person is already dead?"

"I'll explain on the way," Jareth said, "I'll see you there Lestrade. Keep Sergeant Donovan away from Ms. Williams. It might be the end of me."

"How many babies did you snatch?" Lestrade asked.

"I never snatch babies," Jareth said, "I'll see you at the crime scene."

Lestrade nodded to Jareth and then Mrs. Hudson. "Hope to see you soon Ms. Williams."

After the detective had left, Jareth jumped for joy. "Brilliant! Yes! Four serial suicides, including a Fae, and now a note. Oh, it's Christmas. Mrs. Hudson, I will be late. We might need some food."

"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper," Mrs. Hudson said.

"Something cold will do," Jareth said, "Come along Sarah, time is short."

"I'm not coming with you," Sarah said, "Why would I want to help you, anyway?"

"Because you, precious thing, always want to be the heroine. You want to help, which is why you are a healer. Besides, don't you want to find out more? I'll meet you at the cab," Jareth said.

Before he had gone two steps, Sarah was following him. "We're off Mrs. Hudson," Jareth said with glee.

"Both of you?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Impossible suicides? Four of them? No point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Jareth said.

"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent," Mrs. Hudson said with a small smile on her face.

"Who cares about decent? To quote the Bard, 'The game's afoot!" Jareth said.

A cab quickly came to pick up Jareth and Sarah. Jareth opened the door for Sarah and bowed his head slightly as he let her slide in first.

"Don't be too smug, Jareth," Sarah said, "I just want to know what in the world is going on."

&%&%&%

A/N: Yes, you will be meeting Rossetti, the Goblin King before the story is over. Glitter to anyone who knows why the name was chosen.


	5. Chapter IV: Dreams of a Victim

Chapter IV: Dreams of a Victim

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

Jareth was drowning in Sarah's curiosity. He really needed to discuss with her about her projections. It was beginning to be distracting.

"I need you to answer my questions," Sarah said.

"And I need you to answer some of mine," Jareth said, "Let's make it a game."

"Oh, Lord," Sarah said.

"Nothing malicious. I answer a question and you answer a question until we get to the crime scene," Jareth said.

"Nothing... unsavory," Sarah said.

"Fine then, first question," Jareth said, "Do you know that you project your emotions? It is getting bloody annoying."

"I really don't know what you're talking about Jareth," Sarah said.

"Well, that answers that question. Just, try not to... emote so much," Jareth said, "I can show you how to deal with it later."

"What do you mean I am projecting my emotions?" Sarah asked.

"I have been able to sense your emotions since you walked into the library at St. Bart's. Everyone does, it is just that yours affect everyone else in the room, particularly those who are magically inclined. That is a question for you. Now, how is Toby?"

"How is that..." Sarah stopped herself from asking a question, "Toby is fine and growing well. He hates being in school. You can't steal him can you?"

"No, a child can only be wished away once. When did you find out that you were a healer?"

"Well... I think I could always do it, but the Labyrinth made it much more..." Sarah waved her hands in-front of her face indicating "magic". "I became a nurse but found that my skills were needed more in the magically inclined parts of the world. Why are you in London?"

Jareth rolled his eyes. "I would have thought you would have noticed the accent. I am associated with Great Britain and its Fair Folk. It is easier for me to fit in here. Also, the tea is amazing. Why are _you_ here precious?"

Sarah glared at Jareth. "Call me precious one more time and I will punch you in the jugular."

Jareth raised his hands in defeat. "All right, _Sarah_ but answer my question."

"My leg was hurt by magic," Sarah said, nodding to her right leg, "I thought that the magicians here could help but they can't. I love this city though so I want to stay. Why do the police need your help? It doesn't sound like you have much power anymore."

"Ah, but have you ever heard the phrase 'In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king'?" Sarah nodded. "I may not have the Labyrinth and its inhabitants under my control anymore but I do still have some natural magic that is beyond normal humans."

"What do you do?" Sarah asked.

"Dreams do not die as quickly as the dreamers, especially if it is a violent death," Jareth said, "I capture the dreams before they disappear and we see if there is anything in them to help us. Often times, the victims dream of revenge as they lay dying which means we know what the killer looks like. Of course, there is also some good old fashioned detective work involved as well."

"How do you... let me say it this way, can you show me without being too invasive?" Sarah asked.

"I will have to ask permission. I have no power over you after all."

Jareth could barely see her nod her head. Apprehension and fear was very much a presence in the cab.

"May I have permission to look into one of your dreams?" Jareth asked quietly.

Sarah was silent for a long time. Jareth could sense that she was trying hard to not project her emotions onto him, but it did not matter. She was obviously timid about such a proposition, but there was a splattering of excitement running through her.

"I give you permission to look at one of my smaller dreams this one time," Sarah said.

Jareth took Sarah's hands and placed them between his own. He was glad for the gloves since he suddenly had begun to sweat like a teenager. He was over three centuries old. Such things should have been long past.

Slowly, gently, Jareth's magic caressed Sarah's dream, coxing it from her heart and into her hands. He carefully compacted the dream and drew Sarah's hands apart until a perfectly smooth crystal ball was there. Sarah's eyes had been closed for some time during the extraction process and when she opened her eyes, she had a shock of delight pass through her.

"It is the same as before," Jareth said, hesitantly removing his hands.

Sarah rolled the crystal in her hands and gasped. Merlin, who had passed away eight years before, was playing in her favorite park along with her family's current dog, Frederick. Both were in the height of their puppyhood and having a rollicking rumpus with Sarah, playing fetch.

Sarah caressed the crystal and a bittersweet happiness covered her. "Thank you, Jareth," she said.

"I need to put back the dream or you will lose it," Jareth said, "My magic is not as permanent as before."

Sarah nodded and closed her eyes. Jareth did the process again, only this time in reverse. The dream settled in Sarah's heart with a sigh and his magic returned to him. He held Sarah's now empty hands for a moment longer than necessary before releasing her.

"That... was amazing," Sarah said as she opened her yes.

"Do you think so?" Jareth asked, hoping that she was being sincere.

"Of course it was. It was extraordinary," Sarah said. Simple happiness smacked Jareth and it was not entirely from Sarah alone.

"That's not what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?"

"Piss off, but I like your answer better."

"I'm sure you do, you arrogant bas..."

"Oh look, we're here."

Jareth jumped out of the cab but was too slow to open the door for Sarah. She glared at him before they started walking towards the taped off house. Whatever good feelings he had gained from Sarah in the cab had disappeared once she had stepped back into the real world.

Detective Sally Donovan was at the entrance. _Joy._ "Hello, freak!"

"I am here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade," Jareth said.

"Why?" Sally asked.

"I was invited," Jareth said.

"Why?"

"I think he wants me to take a look around the place," Jareth snarled.

"Well, you know what I think, don't you?" Donovan said.

Jareth gave a once over to the detective and gave a sly smile. "Always Sally. I even know you didn't make it home last night."

"I don't... Who's this?" Sally asked.

"Colleague of mine, Sarah Williams. Sarah Williams, Sergeant Sally Donovan," Jareth said.

Donovan raised an eyebrow. "A colleague? How do you get a colleague? Did he follow you home?"

Sarah stiffened at the implication. "Would it be better if I just waited..."

"No," Jareth said, lifting the tape to let Sarah through. He shot his best look of cruelty to Donovan as a warning.

"Freak's here. Bringing him in," Sergeant Donovan said into her walkie-talkie.

A tall man in a forensic suit walked out of the building. "Ah, Anderson. Here we are again," Jareth said.

"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Anderson said.

"Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?" Jareth asked as he tugged at his gloves.

"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that," Anderson said.

"Your deodorant told me that," Jareth said.

"My deodorant?" Anderson asked.

"It's for men," Jareth said.

Anderson crinkled his nose. "Well, of course it's for men - I'm wearing it."

"So is Sergeant Donovan. I think it just vaporized. May we go in?" Jareth said.

Anderson snarled. "Whatever you're trying to imply..."

Jareth grinned as he let Sarah in front of him into the house. "I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees."

&%&%&%

Detective Lestrade was putting on his sterile gloves at the foot of the stairs. "What took you so long?"

"Traffic," Jareth said.

"See you brought the girl," Lestrade said.

"Of course," Jareth said, motioning to Sarah to put on the clean suit.

"Put them on Jareth," Lestrade said.

Jareth merely rolled his eyes.

"I can give you two minutes," Lestrade said.

"I may need longer," Jareth said.

"Need I remind you that magic is not the only thing that vanishes the longer you wait?" Lestrade asked.

Once Sarah was dressed, the three began climbing the five flights of stairs. The pain from Sarah's leg was causing her a great deal of difficulty, but her pride refused to let her ask for help. Jareth then sensed her pushing those feelings of anger and pride back. _Good precious. You're already learning to control it and you don't even know it yet._

At the fourth flight, Lestrade explained what they knew. "Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards, we're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her."

A woman in an outrageous amount of pink was lying on the floor. Sarah sighed and weariness leaked from her. Jareth decided not to bring it up directly and decided to annoy the detective inspector.

"Shut up," Jareth said.

"I didn't say anything," Lestrade said.

"You were thinking. It's annoying," Jareth said which was true to a certain extent.

Jareth got down next to the dead woman and gave a cursory glance over the lady in pink. The jewelry was clean except the wedding ring. There were no love tokens from the Fae's mortal husband. _Apparently, not a wise choice of a mate._ He noticed that she was damp in some places but the umbrella in her pocket was not. Her hosiery was partially saved from where she had dragged her suitcase. Since it had not rained in London, she was from someplace else. The dead Fae was lovely once, but now had resorted to Glamour and make-up. Everything about her matched down to the color of her nails.

The nails drew Jareth's attention to the message. "Rache". German for revenge. It was doubtful, however, since she was a Fae, that she would write her dying wish in something other than her native Fae tongue. He quickly went through his mind of all the letters that would match up and came up with the word "Rachel". _Who in this world or below is Rachel?_

"Got anything?" the detective inspector asked.

"Not much," Jareth said.

"She's German," Anderson said from the doorway. "Rache. It's German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something..."

"Yes, thank you for your input," Jareth said as he got up and shut the door on Anderson's face.

"So she's German?" Lestrade asked.

"Of course she's not. Fae, remember? She's from out of town though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to wherever she is from. So far, so obvious," Jareth said.

"Sorry, obvious?" Sarah asked.

Lestrade asked, "What about the message though?

"Sarah, what do you think?" Jareth asked, kneeling next to the body.

"Of the message?" Sarah asked.

"Of the body. You are a healer and a nurse. You should be able to gather some sort of information," Jareth said.

"We have a whole team right outside," Lestrade said.

"They won't work with me," Jareth said. Sarah began to kneel down by the body.

"I'm breaking every rule letting you in here..." Lestrade said.

Jareth gave a humorless smile. "Yes...because you need me."

Lestrade sighed. "Yes, I do. God help me."

"Sarah!" Jareth said, noticing a far off look she had while looking at the dead woman.

"Hm?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, do as he says. Help yourself. Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes..." Lestrade said giving his orders as he cracked open the door.

"Well? What am I doing here?" Sarah said.

"Helping me make a point," Jareth said.

"I'm supposed to be finding a place to live, not helping you solve a crime," Sarah said.

"This is more fun."

"Fun? There's a woman lying dead."

"Perfectly sound analysis, but I was hoping you would go deeper."

Sarah carefully examined the woman and sniffed the woman's mouth. She ran a hand a millimeter above the body before speaking again. "Yeah... Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure. Due to her Fae state, however, I would say cold iron digested directly could have done this. Nasty way to go."

"You know what it is. You have had to see some news while staying here."

"Well, she's one of the suicides. The fourth...?"

"Jareth - two minutes, I said. You still haven't done your magic."

Jareth had been working his magic. It just was taking longer due to the clashing of the magic from the dead Fae and his. After a moment, Jareth made a crystal appear. He felt drained, but he figured he could make it to a cab before he collapsed. He gave the crystal to Sarah and Lestrade knelt next to her.

"There are three dreams," Lestrade said.

The first dream: "Who's the little girl?" Lestrade asked.

The second dream: "What a slut." Sarah said.

The third dream: "Why is she thinking about a cab ride?" Sarah asked.

"I think her murderer was in her cab," Jareth said.

"Why do you think that?" Lestrade asked.

"The first two dreams are older, at least a decade old," Jareth said, "The last was only formed sometime in the past day. The murderer somehow met her and took a cab with her from wherever she was to what was supposed to be her hotel but instead took her here."

"Fantastic," Sarah said.

"Do you know you do that out loud?" Jareth asked.

"Sorry, I'll shut up," Sarah said.

"No, it is... fine. If I could look inside her suitcase, I might be able to tell you where she was planning on going tonight," Jareth said.

"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes, where is it? She must have had a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is," Jareth said, standing up and walking towards the door.

"She was writing Rachel?" Lestrade asked.

"No, she was leaving an angry note in German," Jareth said with a snarl, "Of course she was writing Rachel. There is no other word it can be. Why did she wait until she was dying to write it?" As Jareth took the first step on the stairs, his legs gave out and he tumbled down to the next flight.

"Jareth!" Sarah shouted, making her way towards him as quickly as her injured leg would allow.

Jareth sat up and glared at Anderson who was in the open room on the fourth floor. "I didn't do it. It's your own fault," Anderson said.

Sarah whacked the wall next to Anderson with her cane. "Shut it before I shut it for you."

Jareth stood up and almost fell down again but was caught by Anderson. "What is wrong with you?" Anderson asked indignantly.

"Everything isssss danccccing," Jareth said, his speech becoming slurred.

Sarah groaned and slapped her face. "That's why you don't move once you've hit your head. Help him into the room. He is going to be run over if he stays out here."

"Yes, ma'am," Anderson said.

"Girlllllls are scary," Jareth said, feeling a little loopy from when he hit his head on the stairs.

"You're telling me? I'm married to one," Anderson said.

"Then why are you inviting Donovan over to _clean your floooooooors_?" Jareth asked.

"Shut up," Anderson hissed as he let Jareth fall against the wall and onto the floor, "I have a crime scene to properly investigate."

Sarah sat next to Jareth and barked out an order to one of the crime scene technicians about a first aid kit and a flashlight. Jareth grinned stupidly as he felt her concern over him. When the crime scene tech came back, she began to examine Jareth's head.

"I am fullllll of win," Jareth said with a dopey look on his face. Sarah was touching him. Admittedly, it hurt because she was poking a lump on the back of his head. She was touching him willingly so it was considered a win in Jareth's book, especially when she removed the tie in his hair to better examine the lump.

"You are full of stupid," Sarah said, her fingers gently tangling in his hair, "You could have warned me how magic drains from you."

"Yeah, well, that's why I asked you along," Lestrade said.

"There are twoooo of both of yooooou," Jareth said.

"Last time he did this, he got hit by a cab. Two times before that, I found him in a ditch outside the crime scene," Lestrade said.

"Jareth, you are such an idiot," Sarah hissed.

"Sorry... precious... I get excited when I can use... magic," Jareth said, "The room is moving funny."

"I'm sure it is since you have a concussion," Sarah said, "All right then. What story do you want to hear?"

"What?" Jareth said, "My mind is not entirely here precious. Did you just ask what stooooory I want to hear?"

"I did and stop calling me precious. It's how my healing magic works. I have to tell a story," Sarah said.

"Nothing about... I do not care. I wooooould rather the room stop spinnnnnning."

Sarah placed one hand behind Jareth's head and one on his forehead. She began telling him the story of the time Sir Didymus taught Ludo to play Scrabble and Ludo beat him. The room began to spin less and less until it stopped completely.

With no hesitation, Sarah unbuttoned his shirt until she could place her hands on his heart. She then told him the story of "The Wild Swans" by Hans Christian Anderson. _Of course she picks a story about a girl saving her brothers._Despite the sore subject topic, his magic became whole again and he felt energized.

After a quick check-up again, Sarah buttoned up his shirt and patted his head. "You did a real number on yourself, though I am out of practice."

Jareth tied his hair back before standing up. "I feel fine, Sarah. Thank you. It would have taken me several hours to get that magic back. Now I can get back to the mystery at hand. Lestrade, where's the case? You've certainly had time to grab it."

"There wasn't a case," Lestrade said.

Jareth paused and raised an eyebrow. "Say that again."

"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase," Lestrade said.

Jareth leapt out of the room and shouted to those working the crime scene below and above him. "Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?"

"There was no case!" Lestrade said.

"But they take the poison themselves. They chew and swallow the pills. There are clear signs, even you lot could not miss them," Jareth said as he began descending the stairs.

"Right, thanks. And...?" Lestrade said.

Jareth paused at the third floor. "It is murder, all of them. I do not know how. But they are not suicides, they are serial killings. We have a serial killer. There is always something to look forward to with serial killers," Jareth said.

"Why are you saying that?" Lestrade asked, truly beginning to be frustrated.

Jareth paused in the middle of the stair case. "Her case! Come on, where is her case? Someone else was here and they took her case. We know the killer was in the cab with her. He forgot the case was in the car."

"She could have checked into a hotel, left it there," Sarah said.

"No, look at her hair. She is more conscious of her clothes than I am. She color-coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She would never have left any hotel with her hair still looking... Oh..." Jareth slapped his hands together as the idea came to him. "Oh!"

"Jareth?" Sarah asked.

Lestrade joined into the joint confusion. "What is it, what?"

"Serial killers are always a hard bunch to deal with. You have to wait for them to make a mistake," Jareth said.

"We can't just wait!" Lestrade said.

"Oh, we are done waiting. Look at her! Just really look at her! We have a mistake. Find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" Jareth said as he made his way to the first floor.

"Of course, yeah but what mistake?" Lestrade asked.

"Pink!" Jareth said, thinking that he had explained it perfectly to those with smaller intellect than himself.

&%&%&%

A/N: And here is the extra chapter I said I would post to make up for being late.

Yes, the line about "Girls are scary" is from Roommates 22 "Girls Rock" by AsheRhyder and "I am full of win" is from 22b "Epilogue" of that same comic (both can be found on deviantART). It is my favorite storyline for the LOTR fan girl side of me. (SO MUCH ADORABLE FRODO!)


	6. ChapterV:ThreatsandOtherSuchPleasantrie ...

Chapter V: Threats and Other Such Pleasantries

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

_I want to strangle that Fae._

Sarah made her way slowly down the stairs, almost falling at a few corners. She was still not used to her cane.

After a few minutes struggling out of the clean suit, Sarah made her way outside. She looked around the police perimeter but did not see a shock of bleach blond hair anywhere. Donovan found her.

"He's gone," Sally said.

"Who, Jareth?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah, he just took off. He does that," Sally said.

"Is he coming back?"

"Didn't look like it."

"Of course he would. Just great. Do you mind telling me where I am?"

"Brixton."

"Do you know where I could get a cab? It's just..." Sarah glanced at the offending limb, "my leg."

"Try the main road."

"Thanks."

"But you're not his friend." This stopped Sarah short. "He doesn't have friends. So who are you?"

"I'm...I'm nobody. I just was pulled along."

"Okay, bit of advice then. Stay away from that guy. He isn't..."

"Isn't what?"

Sally glanced around before speaking. "Human."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Yes. Do you know?"

The two women stared at each other for a moment. "The count of three?" Sarah asked.

"One. Two. Three. Goblin King."

"Jinx, you owe me a soda," Sarah said.

Sally laughed in relief. "Wished away or wisher?"

"Wisher," Sarah said, "I ran for my brother. You?"

"I ran for my sister. What the bloody hell are you doing with him then? I decked him the first time I saw him at a crime scene."

"I am not overly fond of him. When my friends informed me that he was no longer the Goblin King..."

"Friends?"

"I made friends in the Labyrinth. We stay in touch."

"Everything in the Labyrinth was trying to kill me."

"Yes, well, did you ever bother talking to anyone?"

"No."

Sarah shrugged before continuing. "Jareth isn't the Goblin King anymore and my brother can't be taken again. I have no reason to view him as the enemy anymore. The detective inspector recommended I come and I needed to have some questions answered by Jareth. This was the fastest option."

Sally choked at that. "What is wrong with you? He's a child kidnapper."

"He is a Fae. He can only take that which is freely given to him. When you wish away a child, that child is freely given," Sarah said.

"It was a childish wish and I didn't..."

"Mean it? 'What's said is said'. I don't like it either, but I know a bit about the Fae because of my friends. Those changeling stories are real. Fae used to be able to steal children without being offered them. The Goblin Kingdom and their King keep the Fae under control."

"It's still wrong."

Sarah shrugged. "So is what we did, wishing our loved one's away. It was very wrong and we deserved to be punished for it. Without the Labyrinth, I wouldn't be who I am today and I doubt you would be either."

"If his past doesn't scare you, why not his present? You know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime, the more he gets off. And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Jareth will be the one that put it there."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a psychopath. Psychopaths get bored."

"Donovan!" Lestrade said from the front of the building.

"Coming. Stay away from Jareth."

Sarah groaned and walked slowly back to the main road. _Give me the Labyrinth any day._

&%&%&%

Several landlines rang before Sarah decided that it was not coincidence and that it needed to be confronted. She stepped into the phone booth. "I'm sorry, but are you a goblin or something?"

A man spoke. "No, Ms. Williams. There is a security camera on the building to your left. Do you see it?"

"Who is this?"

"Do you see the camera, Ms. Williams?"

"Yeah, I see it," Sarah said.

"Watch..." The camera turned away from her. "There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?"

"Yep." That camera also turned. _Oh good grief. A Bond villain._

"And finally, at the top of the building on your right."

"Can you skip the scare tactics and tell me what you want?" Sarah said.

"Get into the car, Ms. Williams. I would make some sort of threat, but I'm sure your situation is quite clear to you."

Sarah saw a black car roll-up to the curb. The driver stepped out and opened the door for her. Sarah slid into the car and found herself sitting next to a woman who was texting. _Probably to try to reassure me that he isn't some sort of slave trader. Not helping, really._

"Hello," Sarah said, deciding to try to figure anything out about her kidnapper.

"Hi," the woman said, looking up for a moment before returning to her phone.

"What's your name?" Sarah asked.

"Er..." the woman paused, "Anthea."

"Is that your real name?" Sarah asked.

"No."

"I'm Sarah."

"Yes. I know," the woman said smiling slightly.

"Any point in asking...where I'm going?"

"None at all... Sarah."

"Okay," Sarah said, banging her head repeatedly against the headrest.

&%&%&%

A middle-aged man in a nice three piece suit stood in the middle of the room that the car had driven into, leaning on an umbrella. A chair was near him. Sarah walked slowly over, staying away from the chair.

"Have a seat, Ms. Williams," the man said, using his umbrella to point to the chair.

"You know, I have a phone," Sarah said, holding out her cellphone. "I mean, it was very clever, but you could just call me on my cell."

"When one is avoiding the attention of a Fae such as Jareth, one learns to be discreet, hence this place. Your leg must be hurting you. Sit down," the man said.

"I don't want to sit down," Sarah said, forcing the pain from her thoughts as she stood before the man.

"You don't seem very afraid."

"You don't seem very frightening," Sarah said. _Not compared to the Cleaners, an angst-filled Goblin King, or getting shot in a war zone._

"Yes. The bravery of a Labyrinth champion. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think? Why are you involved with Jareth's current dealings?"

"He's kind of just pulled me along for the ride." _How do I suddenly keep running into people who know about the Labyrinth? Jareth is a stinking weird magnet. Okay, maybe I'm the weird magnet. Maybe together we make a super-weird magnet._

"Since yesterday you've moved in with him and now you're solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?"

"Who are you?" Sarah asked, not really expecting an honest answer.

"An interested party."

"Interested in Jareth? Why? I'm guessing you're not friends." _He may not have a lot of magic, but it is a lot more than most. There might be some not so nice parties interested._

"You've met him. How many friends do you imagine he has? I am the closest thing to a friend that Jareth is capable of having."

"And what's that?"

"An enemy."

"An enemy?" _Okay, that sounds like something that would happen to Jareth._

"In his mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he'd probably say his arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic."

"Well, thank God you're above all that Mr. Umbrella."

The man almost rolled his eyes. "Do you plan to continue your association with the former Goblin King?"

"I could be wrong, Mr. Umbrella, but I think that's none of your business."

"It could be. Stop calling me Mr. Umbrella."

"Unless you are some sort of King, which I doubt, it really couldn't be. I won't stop calling you Mr. Umbrella until you give me a real name."

The man pulled out a journal. "If you do move into, 221B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way." He closed the notebook and put it back into his jacket pocket.

"Why?"

"Because you're not a wealthy woman."

"In exchange for what?"

"Information. Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you'd feel... uncomfortable with. Just tell me what he's up to."

"Why?"

"He has a tendency to cause trouble and I wish to stop anything before it reaches goblin proportions. I make sure he doesn't hurt himself."

"That is_ so _nice of you." Sarah felt herself quickly reverting back to the age of fifteen.

"But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned, we have what you might call a... difficult relationship."

"No."

"But I haven't mentioned a figure."

"Don't bother," Sarah hissed.

"You're very loyal to someone who stole your baby brother."

"I'm just not interested."

The man pulled out the notebook again. "'Trust issues' it says here."

"What's that? How did you get your hands on that?"

"Could it be that you've decided to trust Jareth of all people?"

"Who says I trust him?"

"You don't seem the forgiving type so if you are willing to be in the same room as the man who stole your brother..."

That comment made Sarah wish she could smack Mr. Umbrella. _I wouldn't go near Jareth if he still had his full magic or if he could hurt Toby._"You don't know me and I don't plan on you ever knowing me. Are we done?"

"You tell me. I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from him, but I doubt that will happen."

"Why do you think that, Mr. Umbrella?"

"'Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered' and all of the lovely rhetoric that goes with that. None who reach the center of the Labyrinth ever get out again. Maybe physically, but never in their hearts. The world is never the same. Some go mad from it, but others, such as yourself, search for it."

"Jareth is no longer a part of the Labyrinth. I have friends and..."

"Oh, but he always will be, just as you are. Unlike your friends, he will always be in-between worlds, just as you are. The two of you will make quite the pair."

"We are not a pair. Have a nice day, Mr. Umbrella."

"Anthea will return you to your new flat."

"I haven't taken the flat yet. How many times do I have to tell people that?"

&%&%&%

Jareth was sitting at his piano, tapping out a melody that sounded vaguely of Bach. His sleeves were rolled up, showing his pale arms. Sarah resisted face-palming when he changed the music from "vaguely Bach" to "The Song That Never Ends".

"Can I borrow your phone?" he asked.

"Mrs. Hudson's has a phone," Sarah said.

"Yes, she is downstairs. I tried shouting but she did not hear me." Jareth closed the cover of the piano.

"I was on the other side of London..." Sarah said.

"There was no hurry," Jareth said, turning to face her.

"So what's this about? The case?" Sarah asked, crossing her arms.

"Her case..." Jareth said, motioning to a pink suitcase sitting in one of the chairs.

_Oh, great. He's tampering with evidence._"Her case?" Sarah asked.

"Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase, first big mistake. Where have you been?"

"Just met a friend of yours," Sarah said as she sat on the sofa.

"A friend?" Jareth asked raising an eyebrow.

"An enemy," Sarah said in a mock serious tone.

"Oh," Jareth leaned back against the piano. "Which one?"

"Well, your arch-enemy, according to him."

"Did he offer you money to spy on me?" Jareth asked, his voice becoming dark all of a sudden.

"Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"No," Sarah said with indignation.

"Pity, we could have split the fee. Think it through next time, Sarah." Jareth moved from the piano and sprawled on the chair across from the pink suitcase. He picked up his riding crop and tapped it against his leg.

"Who is he?" Sarah asked.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. "The most dangerous man you've ever met besides me and not my problem right now."

"Be that way you jerk. Don't expect me to help you when you get into real trouble you arrogant glitter bomb. Find your own phone."

"I've tried. They like to explode on me if I have something important to do. Someone else has to do it for me. You, Sarah, are the perfect person to do it."

"I am not helping you."

"Of course you will. You want to know who the murderer is just as much as I do. You cannot help but defeat the villain in whatever form he may take."

Sarah went to the kitchen to find some food and get away from the Fae when she stepped on some loose music sheets. She slammed into the floor hard. Her wounded leg twisted causing some of the foreign magic to get loose into the rest of her body.

Before she had finished screaming Jareth was kneeling over her. "Bloody hell Sarah. What happened to you?" He flinched as he placed his gloved hand onto her leg. "Why didn't you tell me it was the Labyrinth's magic that was harming you?"

&%&%&%

A/N: Mycroft is so much fun to write. I may have to throw him in _The Blind Banker _just because I can.


	7. Chapter VI: Wayward Magic

Chapter VI: Wayward Magic

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

Jareth gathered Sarah into his arms and carried her to the sofa. She clutched to him and he could feel her biting into his shirt. And the pain... how long had she been in that much pain? How could he have brushed it off as mere mortal pain?

The former Goblin King quickly rolled up Sarah's right trouser leg and removed her shoe and sock. There were spider webs wrapped around an oozing wound. It was the bare minimum needed to keep a magical wound from infecting the rest of the body. He could smell goblin in the cuts. More importantly, the Labyrinth's magic was creeping slowly into the rest of Sarah's body. Such powerful magic in a human, even an extraordinary human such as Sarah, was deadly. It was a miracle that it had not killed her already.

"Precious thing, you have to tell me exactly what happened. I will end up hurting you if I do not have the right information," Jareth said.

Sarah was gripping the sofa cushions and tears were forming in her eyes. "I don't... want to be in your debt. You'll ask for... something I can't give."

He flinched at how scared she was of him. "You won't be. This will be repayment for helping me earlier," Jareth said.

Sarah nodded and gasped out her answer. "I... was in Afghanistan. There isn't a lot of magic from the... other side but... the Americans have a lot and it has... a tendency to go bad. I was... out in a caravan when we were attacked. I was running around trying to heal... the soldiers... Jareth, please."

Jareth stroked her hair, trying to comfort her. "I need more information."

"I was shot... in the left shoulder. I went down and... no one was coming... I just... I called out for anyone... I wished for help... I felt...something pull me away. Then goblins grabbed me. Some of them tore up... my right leg. There were... five... who... grabbed my leg. No one can fix it. They've tried and... no one knows... anything about goblin wounds. Goblins aren't... violent... as often as others... No one... Underground... knows why it isn't healing... not even the goblins who helped. Please. Don't be... cruel."

"It is possible that... the Labyrinth pulled you away. It was fond of you. The goblins probably got some of the Labyrinth's loose magic in your leg when they finished bringing you to safety." Jareth moved his hands just above Sarah's body. The Labyrinth's magic was quickly moving to her vital organs. He had maybe ten minutes to stop it and he knew the Goblin King could not come and save Sarah with a Runner in the Labyrinth.

"I am going to have to remove the magic," Jareth said, "Sarah it will not be pleasant. You have to promise me something before I begin."

"Just... I don't care."

"Promise you won't try to stop me, no matter how agonizing it is," Jareth said.

"I promise. Get it out," Sarah hissed.

In a moment, Jareth sat on the sofa and put Sarah's legs on his lap. He could see the very distinct goblin claw marks and he felt as if he could guess who left them in some of the wounds. That was not for him to deal with now. He had to heal Sarah. _I don't damn well care anymore. Sarah will not die._

"Precious, this will only take a minute but will feel like forever, which isn't long at all," he said.

"Shut up and fix it," Sarah growled.

Jareth slipped off his gloves and tossed them across the room. He then placed his fingers into the deep wounds, digging out the magic of the Labyrinth. Sarah screamed. He ignored this and continued his work. He flicked out the magic as he found it, splattering blood and glitter around the apartment. The Labyrinth's magic reverted back to its old master and gleefully came to Jareth to be removed from the human.

The former Goblin King found that there was no more wayward magic in Sarah after working for little less than a minute. He then went to work on cleaning the goblin residue in the wounds. This took only a few seconds. Jareth finally placed a general healing spell on Sarah's leg and he could see that the leg was eager to be put to rights. Feeling smug, he sent a little more of his magic to heal some of Sarah's minor scratches.

Jareth moved Sarah's legs so he could slide onto the floor. He willed a crystal to appear in his hand and threw it against a wall. The blood and magic disappeared. He did not want to face Mrs. Hudson again with such a large magical mess.

"Better precious?" he mumbled as darkness took him.

&%&%&%

Jareth awoke by being slapped. He grabbed the offending hand even before he opened his eyes. Sarah was leaning over him, furious.

"You stopped breathing, you idiot," she said.

"Oh, that is interesting," Jareth said, "It has been awhile since I have done that. I did not, however, deserved to be slapped, silly girl."

Sarah rested her head against Jareth's shoulder. "Do not ever make me think you died ever again."

"I doubt I will have need to do so in the future precious," Jareth said.

Sarah forced herself back up onto the sofa. "The leg hurts, but not nearly as bad as before. I think I will need the cane for a little bit."

"No doubt," Jareth said, "Can you do something for me?"

"What?" Sarah asked.

"I need you to send a text. The technology gods have it out for me so that whenever I have to do something important, everything electronic I touch falls apart."

Sarah pulled out her phone and typed out the number Jareth recited to her. "Now, use these words exactly. 'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street, please come'."

With a few clicks, the text was sent. "What was that about?"

"Just a hunch," Jareth said, "Are you hungry? We should go get some dinner. I know this lovely place called Angelo's. They make a very good dish of pasta. So good it would make the Mongols weep."

"Can you even stand up?"

Jareth pulled himself up using the sofa. "Can you keep up?" he said with a grin.

&%&%&%

A/N: This scene was one of the first to become clear in my mind and made me feel like I could write this story. I hope you enjoy.


	8. Chapter VII: Dinner and a Run

Chapter VII: Dinner and a Run

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

"It's generally just a five minute walk, but I do not think we are quite up to that yet," Jareth said as he flagged down a cab.

"So, what did you just do?" Sarah asked.

"I texted our killer to meet us. We are going to stake out the meeting place and catch him before he catches us."

"You think he's stupid enough to go there?"

"No, I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They are all so desperate to get caught."

"Why?"

"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That is the frailty of genius, Sarah, it needs an audience."

"Well, that explains the goblins."

"Oh, ha, ha. Of course I am a genius but that is not why the goblins were there. I am... was the 'Goblin' king for a reason." Jareth returned to his original train of thought. "This is his hunting ground. Right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go. Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

"Don't know. Who?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

&%&%&%

When they entered the restaurant, Jareth nodded to the restaurant host. He let Sarah sit with her back to the window while he took a side seat, watching the street.

"He's not just going to ring the doorbell. He would have to be insane," Sarah said.

"He has killed four people," Jareth said.

An older, portly man came to the table. "Jareth! Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and for your date."

"I'm not his date," Sarah said sharply.

"This man got me off a murder charge," the man said.

"This is Angelo. Three years ago I proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was elsewhere, house-breaking," Jareth said.

"He cleared my name," Angelo said.

"I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite of here?" Jareth asked.

"Nothing. But for this man, I'd have gone to prison," Angelo said.

"You did go to prison," Jareth said.

"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic," Angelo said, walking away.

"I'm not his date!" Sarah said.

"Go ahead and pick something, Sarah. We may have to wait awhile."

"You aren't eating?"

"Digestion slows the mind," Jareth said.

Angelo placed a candle on the table. Jareth grinned as Sarah blew it out.

"I think the lady doth protest too much," Jareth said.

"That isn't even how the line goes," Sarah said, "And as much as I am grateful not to be in agony, I am not going to have a roll with you as a show of gratitude."

"I would never ask that of you, Sarah," Jareth said, turning his attention fully to the street.

Sarah noticed a young boy, maybe four years old, sitting with his parents. He looked tired and sad. The parents were having a heated, low-tone conversation. It reminded her far too much of her own parents and the quiet anger they hid in public that exploded at home.

Jareth glanced back to where Sarah was looking and sighed. "Did I project again?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, but I was aware of them the moment we stepped out of the cab," Jareth said.

From his coat pocket, Jareth pulled out three light weight foam balls. He tossed them into the air and began traditionally juggling them. Sarah was confused for a moment until the little boy was standing at the edge of their table. Jareth stopped juggling and pulled a chair over for the little boy to sit on.

"Hello," Jareth said.

"Hi," the little boy said.

"My name is Jareth and this is Sarah. What's your name?"

"Hunter," the boy said.

"Well, Hunter. Do you know what goblins do when they don't have to work?" Jareth asked.

Sarah tensed as the boy shook his head. Jareth pulled out a notebook. "They chase chickens." There was a hand-drawn picture of several of Jareth's goblins chasing chickens through the throne room. One of the chickens was sitting on a goblin's head.

The little boy giggled. "I thought goblins are supposed to be scary."

"Oh, they can be quite scary," Jareth said, smiling just enough to let his pointed canines show, "but that is only when they are protecting something or someone. They are quite silly things when they know that what they care about is safe."

"Oh," Hunter said. He glanced back at his parents and sighed. "I don't like it when they fight."

"Have you ever heard the story called 'The Goblin and the Grocer' Hunter?" Sarah asked, wanting to take the boy's mind off his parent's fighting for a few minutes.

Hunter shook his head. Sarah slipped her hand around Jareth's wrist under the table, deciding to entertain the boy and give Jareth some more strength. It was a short fairy tale by Hans Christian Anderson about goblin who could not decide between jam and books as the most wonderful thing in the world. As she concluded the story, the parents finally noticed that their son was missing.

"Hunter, what are you doing harassing those people?" the mother asked.

"He wasn't bothering us," Sarah said.

The woman rolled her eyes. "He always is. Come along Hunter, time to go."

"Bye Sarah. Bye Jareth," Hunter said, waving good-bye as his parents dragged him out of the restaurant.

Sarah involuntarily tightened her hold on Jareth's wrist as the family left. "I would like the use of my hand at some point in the future," Jareth said.

Releasing her grip, Sarah put her head on the table. "Sorry about that."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Jareth said, "You do not like suffering on those who do not deserve it."

"I know life isn't fair but I wish it was," Sarah said.

"Fair is not always kind," Jareth said.

Sarah sat up and was about to respond when she noticed how intently Jareth was watching the street.

"Look across the street. There is a taxi that has stopped. Nobody is getting in and nobody is getting out. Why a taxi? Oh, that is clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?"

"That's him?" Sarah asked as she turned to face the street, noticing a man in the cab.

"Don't stare," Jareth said.

"You're staring."

"We cannot both stare."

The taxi began to drive off. Jareth grabbed his coat and ran into the street. Sarah followed.

"I've got the cab number," Sarah said, writing it down quickly in her notebook.

"How good for you," Jareth said as he closed his eyes and began to mutter. "Right turn, one way, road works, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights."

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked.

"Come along, Sarah," Jareth said as he ran in a different direction than the cab.

"Jareth! You're ridiculously taller than me!" Sarah shouted as she ran after him.

Sarah was barely able to keep up with Jareth, though their height difference was not as great as Sarah made it out to be. They made a variety of twists and turns through the streets (and eventually the roofs) of London. After a merry chase, Jareth slammed into the cab they were chasing, with a police badge in his hand.

"Police business! Open her up," Jareth said. He opened the door and groaned. "No...Teeth, tan. What, Californian? LA, Santa Monica. Just arrived."

"How could you... possibly know that?" Sarah asked.

"The luggage. Probably your first trip to London, correct? Going by your final destination and the cabbie's route," Jareth said.

"Sorry are you guys the police?" the Californian asked.

"Everything all right sir?" Jareth asked.

The Californian gave a "you're crazy" smile. "Yeah."

"Welcome to London," Jareth said, tapping on the hood of the car.

Sarah gave her best (though overall very bad) British accent. "Any problems just let us know."

Sarah and Jareth walked over to the wall of a nearby building and leaned against it. Both were out of breath.

"Basically just a cab that happened to slow down," Sarah said.

"Basically," Jareth said.

"Not the murderer," Sarah said.

"Not the murderer, no."

"Wrong country, good alibi."

Jareth shrugged. "As they go. I find being in different worlds a better one to use."

Sarah tapped the police badge. "Hey, where did you get this? Detective Inspector Lestrade?"

"Yes. I pickpocket him when he is annoying. You can keep that one. I have plenty at the flat." Jareth paused at the smile on Sarah's face. "What?"

"Nothing, just...'Welcome to London'."

Sarah noticed that the Californian was talking to a real police officer. "Got your breath back? Up for another run?" Jareth asked.

"Piece of cake," Sarah said as she poked him, "Tag, you're it."

&%&%&%

A/N: I hated writing this chapter. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I didn't get to have Jareth and Sarah flirting a lot. Oh, well.


	9. Chapter VIII: Mischief

Chapter VIII: Mischief

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique) of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

The former Goblin King and the Labyrinth's Champion arrived at 221B Baker Street out of breath but in a jolly mood. They leaned against the wall by the stairs to the flat trying to suppress laughter.

"That was ridiculous. That was the most ridiculous thing... I've ever done," Sarah said

"That's not true," Jareth said, raising a hand in protest. "'Up or down'?"

Sarah collapsed onto the floor in laughter. Her happiness surrounded Jareth in an intoxicating haze.

"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?" Sarah asked when her laughter was under control.

"They can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway," Jareth said.

"So what were we doing there?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, just passing the time. Mrs. Hudson! Sarah will take the room upstairs."

"Says who?" Sarah asked.

Jareth smiled as he, with his acute hearing, heard a familiar footfall. "Says the man at the door," Jareth said.

After a few knocks, Sarah went to the door. Angelo was standing there with Sarah's cane in his hand. "You forgot this. Figured you would have gone home."

Sarah was confused for a moment. She looked down at her leg, looked back at Jareth, back down at her leg, and then at Angelo. "Ah... thank you."

Angelo nodded and went back to his restaurant. Sarah closed the door and grinned at Jareth. "I thought you said this would take a while. I feel like before I got hurt. I should feel more worn out."

Jareth crossed his arms and said with no small amount of pride, "Magic."

Mrs. Hudson came out in tears. "Jareth, what have you done?"

"Mrs. Hudson?" Jareth said, shocked to see Mrs. Hudson in such a state. He had only seen her upset like this twice in the eight years he had known her.

"Upstairs," Mrs. Hudson said.

Jareth bounded up the stairs, Sarah close behind. The flat was overrun with police. Detective Lestrade was sitting in the chair facing the doorway. The suitcase was beside the detective.

"What are you doing?" Jareth asked, placing his hands on his hips, certain that it was not nearly as intimidating as when he was in armor.

"Well, I knew you'd find the case, I'm not stupid," Lestrade said.

"You cannot just break into my flat," Jareth said. He sensed Sarah's confusion and then exasperation.

"You can't withhold evidence and I didn't break in," Lestrade said.

"Well, what do you call this then?" Jareth asked.

Lestrade spread his arms a bit. "It's a drugs bust."

_Holy Bog of Eternal Stench Sarah is going to kill me, bring me back to life, castrate me, and then kill me again._

"Seriously? This guy, a junkie? Have you met him?" Sarah said, stepping in front of Jareth.

"Sarah..." Jareth said softly, letting his hands fall to his side. _Defending me already Sarah? Why do you pick such repulsive scabs to protect?_

"You could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational," Sarah said.

"Sarah, you may desire to be quiet now," Jareth said.

Sarah turned. "But come on..." _No, please don't look at me that way. Shout at me. Hit me. Kill me. Throw me in the Bog. Just don't look at me that way. _"No..."

"What?" Jareth said.

"You?" Sarah asked, pain turning slowly to anger.

"Sarah, have you ever had a part of you almost completely obliterated? That was what happened when I was cut off from my kingdom. I... got bored and I needed something anything. I swear to you, I am clean," Jareth said. He turned to Lestrade, "I am not your sniffer dog."

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog," Lestrade said.

The man poked his head out from behind the kitchen door and waved.

"Anderson! What are you doing here on a drugs bust?" Jareth asked.

"Oh, I volunteered," Anderson said.

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they're very keen," Lestrade said.

Sergeant Donovan brought a jar out from the kitchen. "Are these human eyes?"

"Put those back!" Jareth said.

"They were in the microwave," Sally said.

"It is an experiment and they are gnome eyes," Jareth said.

"Keep looking, guys, Lestrade said, standing up, "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

"This is childish," Jareth said.

Lestrade said, "Well, I'm dealing with a child. Jareth, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"

"So you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Jareth asked.

"It stops being pretend if we find anything," Lestrade said.

"I have not touched drugs in five years, smoked in three years, or touched alcohol since they announced London was hosting the Olympics. I am clean!" Jareth said.

"Is your flat...? All of it? You know, we got a little beep from our magically inclined friends who said that there was a bit of magical activity earlier tonight," Lestrade said.

"It was perfectly within in the limits of my bindings," Jareth said.

"What bindings?" Sarah said.

"Do you remember earlier that there are certain limits on my magic?" Jareth asked.

"Yes. I forgot to ask about that," Sarah said.

Lestrade cut in, "Jareth is allowed to use his magic for rightful rulers and their ministers, to protect a life if no one else can save it, or at the request of a Labyrinth champion or wished away. Which one of those did you use tonight?"

"To protect a life and the request of a Labyrinth champion," Jareth said coolly.

Lestrade looked at Sarah for a moment and gave a sound of understanding. "Right, the leg. She isn't limping anymore."

"There was a type of magic that would have killed her," Jareth said, "She asked me to remove it. I am doubly covered from any punishments."

"Is this true? He can't harm you unless I give the say so," Lestrade said.

"Yes, he made sure he had my permission first," Sarah said.

"So let's work together. We've found Rachel," Lestrade said.

"Who is she?" Jareth asked.

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter," Lestrade said.

"Her daughter?" Jareth asked.

"Why would she write her daughter's name? Jareth said it was probably a stranger," Sarah asked, "Not exactly practical if you want revenge."

"Never mind that, we found the case," Anderson said, "According to someone the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath.

"I am a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research. You need to bring Rachel in and I need to question her," Jareth said.

"She's dead," Lestrade said.

"Excellent. How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be one," Jareth said.

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for 14 years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, 14 years ago," Lestrade said.

Jareth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, that is... that is not right. How... Why would she do that? Why?"

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup sociopath, I'm seeing it now," Anderson said.

"She did not just think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt. She was thinking of her daughter, yes, but it was not her strongest desire. That cab ride was."

"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he... talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow," Sarah said.

"Yes, but that was over a decade ago. Fae may have children rarely and the loss of one is tragic, but it is not the end all for a Fae. They do not... feel like humans do about such things. A replacement is just as good as the original. They would just replace the lost child with a... child under the Goblin King's keeping. She already would have been far enough along in the process to have another child in the wings. Why would she still be upset?" Jareth paused as he felt Sarah's shock. "That was not very... human of me to say, was it?"

"Not really, no," Sarah said, shaking her head.

"If you were dying... If you had been murdered, in your very last few seconds, what would you say?" Jareth asked.

"Please, God, let me live," Sarah said.

"Use your imagination," Jareth sighed.

"I don't have to, Jareth. Did you forget that already?" Sarah asked.

Jareth paused before continuing. He did not have time to tend to Sarah's hurt feelings with a killer on the loose. "Jennifer Wilson is trying to tell us something. Put yourself in her mind, Sarah. You're running all those lovers, what clever thing are you trying to get across." Jareth began to pace.

"Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Jareth," Mrs. Hudson said.

"I did not order a taxi. Go away," Jareth said.

"Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"It's a drugs bust, Mrs. Hudson," Sarah said.

"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers..." Mrs. Hudson said, pitifully.

_Will someone just stop the racket? _"Quiet! Do not speak. Do not breathe. I am trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You are putting me off," Jareth commanded.

"What? My face is?" Anderson said indignantly.

Lestrade groaned, "Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back."

Anderson said, "Oh, for God's sake!"

"Your back, now, please!" Lestrade said.

"Come on," Jareth said, grabbing his riding crop, tapping it against his leg.

"What about your taxi?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Mrs. Hudson!" Jareth hissed. He paused as the idea clicked into place. "Oh... Ah! She was clever. Clever, yes! She is cleverer than all of you and she is dead. Do you see? Do you get it? She did not lose her phone. She never lost it. She planted it on him. When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."

"But how?" Lestrade asked.

"What do you mean, how? Rachel! Do you not see it? Rachel! Oh... Look at you mortals. You are all so vacant. Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing. Rachel is not a name," Jareth said.

"Then what is it?" Sarah said sharply.

"Sarah, on the luggage, there is a label and there is an e-mail address," Jareth said. He quickly turned his laptop off of hibernation and thanked the powers that be that it did not explode.

"Um... .uk," Sarah said.

Jareth said, "She did not have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone. It is e-mail enabled. So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address. All together, the password is?"

"Rachel," Sarah said.

"So we can read her e-mails. So what?" Anderson said.

"Anderson, do not speak. You lower the IQ of the whole street. We can do much more than that. It is a smartphone which means that it has GPS. This means if you lose it you can locate it online. She is leading us directly to the man who killed her," Jareth said.

"Unless he got rid of it," Lestrade said.

"We know he didn't," Sarah said.

Jareth smacked his computer. "Come on, come on." Sarah took his place at the computer, taking pity on the poor electronic device.

Mrs. Hudson spoke up again. "Jareth, dear. This taxi driver..."

"Mrs. Hudson, is it not time for your evening soother? Get vehicles, get a helicopter. This phone battery will not last forever," Jareth said.

"We'll just have a map reference, not a name," Lestrade said.

"It is a start!" Jareth said.

Sarah said softly, "Jareth..."

"This will narrow it down from just anyone in London. It is the first proper lead that we have had," Jareth said.

Sarah said somewhat louder, "Jareth..."

Jareth returned to Sarah's side. "Where is it? Quickly, where?"

"It's here. It's... in 221 Baker Street," Sarah said.

"How can it be here? How?" Jareth said.

"Maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it... fell out somewhere," Lestrade said, spreading his arms to indicate to the mess.

"What? I did not notice it? Me? I did not notice?" Jareth said.

"Anyway, we texted him and he called back," Sarah said.

Lestrade said, "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim..."

Sarah stood up and lightly touched Jareth's arm. "Jareth, are you okay? What are you thinking?"

_The cabbie. Of course. How could I miss it? Something so brilliant?_"Hmmm? Oh, I am fine, presc... Sarah," Jareth said.

"So, how can the phone be here?" Sarah asked.

Jareth did not respond. One of the downfalls of being a Fae was being unable to lie to a direct question.

"I'll try it again," Sarah said.

"Good idea," Jareth said.

"Where are you going?" Sarah asked.

"Fresh air," Jareth said.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Sarah asked.

"I will be fine soon, Sarah," Jareth said.

&%&%&%

"Taxi for Jareth, King of the Goblins," the cabbie said when Jareth stepped outside of 221 Baker Street.

"I did not order a taxi," Jareth said.

"Doesn't mean you don't need one."

Jareth, oddly enough, remembered the face. "You are the cabbie. The one who stopped outside Northumberland Street. It was you. Not your passenger."

"See? No-one ever thinks about the cabbie. It's like you're invisible. Just the back of an 'ead. Proper advantage for a serial killer."

"Is this a confession?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll tell you what else... If you call the coppers now, I won't run. I'll sit quiet and they can take me down, I promise."

"Why?"

"Cos you're not going to do that."

Jareth raised in eyebrow in amusement. "Am I not?"

"I didn't kill those four people, Goblin King. I spoke to 'em and they killed themselves. If you get the coppers now, I'll promise you one thing. I will never tell you what I said."

"No one else will die, though, and I believe that is called a result." Jareth pulled at his gloves.

"And you won't ever understand how those people died. What kind of result do you care about?"

Jareth paused. _Are you trying to play a game, against me? What a stupid man. _"If I wanted to understand... what would I do?"

"Let me take you for a ride."

"So you can kill me too? It would be quite a notch on your belt, though a bit difficult."

"I don't want to kill you, Goblin King. I'm going to talk to ya...and then you're going to kill yourself."

"How did you find me? I am not exactly in the phone book."

"Oh, I recognized ya. Soon as I saw you chasing my cab. The Goblin King! I was warned about you. I've heard the stories and met some goblins, too. Brilliant stuff! Loved it."

"Who warned you about me?"

"Just someone out there who's noticed."

"Who? Who would notice me?"

"You're too modest, your majesty."

"I am really not. I have been banished from the Underground and have no importance in the Above. What interest am I to anyone?"

"Got yourself a fan. I am sure he's got a reason."

Jareth could smell the challenge, the game. _A fan? Someone who is interested in a banished Fae king?_ "Tell me more."

"That's all you're going to know. In this lifetime."

_Oh, arrogance. I can work with arrogance. What fun this will be._

&%&%&%

A/N: Somehow, this was the last chapter written during the rough draft. I actually really enjoy this scene but it just ended up last on my list of things to do with this episode.

Since I am going to be extremely busy for the next few days, I will post the last three chapter tomorrow.


	10. Chapter IX: Who Is Right and Who Is Dead

Chapter IX: Who Is Right and Who Is Dead

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

Sarah shoved a pile of papers off the table in the living room and banged her head against the smooth wood. Jareth was a liar and an addict. The first was not a surprise but the second was. He always seemed so... in-control. Now he was off prowling the streets of London doing God-knows-what, either to get drugs or to stomp off an adult temper-tantrum.

The group from Scotland Yard quickly finished their inspection. There was nothing. _Nothing. Nothing. Nothing tra la la._ Detective Lestrade was the last to leave.

"Why did he do that?" Lestrade asked Sarah, "Why did he have to leave?"

"You know him better than I do," Sarah said.

"I've known him for ten years - and no, I don't," Lestrade said.

"So why do you put up with him?" Sarah asked, rubbing her face with her hands.

"Because I'm desperate, that's why. And because Jareth is a great man and I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one. Goodnight Ms. Williams."

&%&%&%

Sarah looked at Jareth's laptop. The background was "Proserpine" by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. She vaguely remembered that he was the brother of Christiana Rossetti, the author "The Goblin Market"._ Goblins and the story of a girl being dragged to the underground by the 'villain'? Jareth, I hope you were being ironic. _

There was one tab left on the computer. When she clicked on it, it showed the GPS of the pink cellphone.

And it was not at Baker Street anymore.

The cab was the fastest Sarah ever took in London, even though she was only able to give directions a few streets at a time. She was dropped off at a college with two buildings, both identical with a cab in the middle.

"Oh, Jareth, what did you do now?" Sarah said to no one in particular.

The abandoned cab was parked slightly to the right. Sarah took one step in that direction and stopped. **_Wrong. Wrong. WRONG!_**Sarah shook her head and shivered at the correction. She got these feelings occasionally of what way she should go. It was better not to question it. She went into the left building.

Walking quickly eventually led to running. **_Faster. Faster. Faster. _**_Oh, shut up. I get it. DANGER WILL ROBINSON! _

On the second floor, Sarah could faintly hear two men talking. One was the former Goblin King; the other had some sort of cockney accent. Sarah stood outside the door, catching her breath and she heard the words of the cockney accent clearly.

"I bet you get bored, don't you? I know you do. A man like you. So clever. But what's the point of being clever if you can't prove it? Still the addict. But this...this is what you're really addicted to. You'll do anything...anything at all, to stop being bored. You're not bored now, are ya? Isn't it good?"

Sarah burst in through the doors. An elderly man was sitting while Jareth was standing. Both had a pill in their hands.

"What idiocy is this?" Sarah shouted, "Is this some sort of drug deal Jareth?"

"Sarah, get out," Jareth said, sounding far more like the Goblin King than he had over the past two days.

"No, what the... oh... goblin crap," Sarah said, realizing that the elderly man was holding a gun.

"Have a seat," the man said.

Sarah stared at the gun a moment and laughed. "Funny. Jeremy has a lighter like that."

Both men gaped at her. "What? I'm an American. My father is a member of the NRA. I shot my first deer when I was eight. My mother is an actress so I am familiar with props. Her boyfriend has a lighter like that." _Blabbering. Blabbering is bad. Get control of the situation._ "So, what's the game?"

"We were just wrapping up," the serial killer said, "I'll be more than willing to play the game with you after I am done playing with the Goblin King."

"Sorry, not interested," Sarah said, "Besides, I think I already know the answer, if I understand the game."

"And what's that?" the murderer asked.

"Well, it's similar to this one movie I saw and it has a very simple lesson: life isn't fair," Sarah said. "Your victims fall for the second greatest blunder. The first of the greatest blunders: never get into a land war in Asia. Slightly less known: Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line." _Stop blabbering you idiot. Spit it out. _"Both pills are poisoned."

"It is not a part of the game," Jareth said.

"Well, neither is taking away time from a Runner," Sarah said, "Jareth, leave the game."

Before he could answer, the serial killer pulled out a knife. "No outside help," he said coolly.

Sarah did not know where the words came from, but she said, "I wish the goblins would stop the serial killer right now."

Suddenly, giggles could be heard in the corners and under the tables and then snarls. Sarah did not feel fear until then. It was all too familiar. She first thought of a fire fight three months before and a stormy night twelve years before that.

The serial killer moved to stand up but was dragged under the table, screaming. Sarah covered her ears as the screams became worse and she could hear flesh being torn. She collapsed when she heard a bone being snapped.

"Stop it! Stop it now!" Sarah shouted.

The goblins continued in their merry game. Jareth seemed unconcerned with the goblins and what they were doing with the killer. He was more concerned with the pill in his hand.

"Jareth, stop them! I wanted him stopped not killed! He needs justice," Sarah said.

"Goblin justice is still justice," Jareth said, "He threatened a Champion of the Labyrinth. This is how the goblins wish to respond."

"Jareth, please!" Sarah said.

Jareth cracked his neck and said, "Quiet! All of you! Bring the man to me."

The goblins shut up immediately. Several goblins dragged the serial killer in front of Jareth. It was only because of years in medicine, mainly in combat situations, that Sarah did not vomit at the sight of the cabbie.

Jareth stood over the cabbie. "Was I right? Did I get it right?" Jareth threw his pill at the man. "Tell me this. Your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about me... _my fan_. I want a name."

"No..." the man gasped.

"You're dying, but there is still time to hurt you. I am known for being cruel." Jareth ground his foot into the man's wounds.

"Stop it, Jareth," Sarah said, "You're better than that."

Jareth glanced up at Sarah. He was scared. She had never seen him scared. There was something more though. Whatever that was, he stopped purposely hurting the killer because of it.

Jareth knelt beside the serial killer. "Give me... a name... now. Trust me when I say that my cruelty is so much smaller than hers. You would not want Sarah Williams' wrath against you. The name!"

"MORIARTY!" the cabbie screamed before he went limp.

Jareth stood up and glanced around. The name was said silently, like he tasted it. "Moriarty."

The goblins disappeared from the corners and shadows. Jareth moved over to where Sarah had collapsed. "It's time to end this case," he said, holding out his hand.

&%&%&%

A/N: I always felt like it was an iocane power situation with the pills. Also, _The Princess Bride_is another 80's cult classic about how life isn't fair but you fight for what is right and true anyway.

There is a picture by janey-jane called "Sarah as Persephone" (it's on deviantArt) which is based off Dante Gabriel Rossetti's "Proserpine". You may know him better as the illustrator of his sister Christiana Rossetti's poem, "The Goblin Market". (At least, that's what I knew him from. I am an English Education major after all.) And no, the irony of dragging a girl to the Underground is not lost on Jareth.

Pika-la Cynique drew a fun pic called "Mario Labyrinth" which I find ironic because talks about "A Study in Pink" featuring the "Princess in Another Castle" trope.

As a note of warning, if you haven't read "The Goblin Market", it is kind of creepy. Especially with the pictures. Especially when you know that the pictures were drawn by the poet's brother. I'm going to go pour bleach on my brain now.


	11. Chapter X: Nothing Is As It Seems

Chapter X: Nothing Is As It Seems

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

"Why do I have this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me," Jareth said while he and Lestrade sat in one of the temporary rooms of the ER.

"Yeah, it's for shock," Lestrade said, drinking deeply from his coffee.

"I am not in shock," Jareth hissed.

"Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs," Lestrade said with a smile as Anderson and Donovan stuck their phones into the room and quickly back out again.

"Why can I not see Sarah?" Jareth asked.

"She really is in shock," Lestrade said, "That combined with all the magic that has been going on tonight has caused her a bit of physical distress. It's just a precaution."

"She is an idiot," Jareth said, tossing the blanket at Anderson as he quickly walked past the door.

"Yeah, she's friends with you," Lestrade said.

"I am not her friend," Jareth said, "Not yet, anyway."

"Yeah, and you mooning over her ain't going to help," the detective inspector said, "Oh, don't give me that look you idiot. I may not be as smart as you, but I am not a moron. Don't scare her off. She's kept my best consultant from getting into real harm twice in one night and she saved my nephew. Don't mess it up. I'm off. Got some paperwork and then the press release before I can collapse. Night, Jareth."

"Sweet dreams inspector," Jareth said. He lay back into the bed and realized how exhausted he was. With a snap of his fingers, a goblin scuttled to his side.

"Tell the Goblin King that I would be willing to meet later on today, after the Lady Sarah has left the hospital in good condition," Jareth said. He yawned, "There are some matters we must discuss."

&%&%&%

Sarah found herself leaving the hospital several hours (and several police interviews) later. Jareth was walking with her and they were silent until they were outside.

"Thank you," Jareth said.

"What?" Sarah said.

"You heard me," Jareth said, "You did well when we were at the college."

"Yeah, keeping you for falling for 'they were both poisoned' trick. You moron. Why would you risk your life like that?" Sarah asked.

"We do not know they were both poisoned," Jareth said, "And it is none of your concern what I do."

"It is if I'm going to be sharing a flat with you," Sarah said.

Jareth paused. "Really?"

"Of course. It's that or get kicked out of England," he sensed her humor turn serious, "Also, despite the whole almost getting killed part; I think I could help you. I don't want murderers running around free if you can catch them. You need a healer to work more, right?"

Jareth nodded.

"Then I am here to help," Sarah said, "But I am not some servant you can boss around. I am your colleague. You won't treat me like a goblin and I won't automatically assume that you are the scum of the earth. Deal?" Sarah held out her hand.

Jareth smiled and shook Sarah's hand. "Deal. Now, are you hungry? I am sure we could scrounge some breakfast up. There is a diner on Baker Street and..."

"Jareth... That's him, that's the man I was talking to you about," Sarah said, nodding to a man standing by a black car with a woman texting next to him.

"I know exactly who that is," Jareth said, steeling himself for the encounter. He stalked over to his "arch-enemy".

"So... Another case cracked. How very public-spirited. Though that's never really your motivation, is it?" Mycroft said.

"What are you doing here?" Jareth said.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you," Mycroft said.

"Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern'," Jareth said tilting his head slightly to Sarah.

"Always so aggressive," Mycroft said, turning his umbrella in his hand, "Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

Jareth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Oddly enough, no."

"We have more in common than you'd like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer. And you know how Sherlock has always wanted us to get along. You have never played well with others," Mycroft said.

"I don't play well with others? You are the one who wished your brother away because he beat you at chess," Jareth said, resisting the urge to grin at the thought of the young Holmes boys and their rather short time in the Labyrinth.

"No. No, wait... Sherlock? Who's Sherlock?" Sarah said, her confusion making Jareth feel a bit smug.

"Sherlock Holmes, a friend of mine," Jareth said, "This is his brother, Mycroft."

"You are a wisher?" Sarah asked.

"Yes. Is that so hard to believe?" Mycroft said. Admittedly, Mycroft Holmes came across as a mild mannered accountant, but he was very goblin beneath it all and ever so slightly whimsical.

"How... what?" Sarah said. _Poor Sarah. She really needs to sleep if something this simple is confusing her._

Jareth sighed before explaining. "Mycroft wished away his brother many years ago. Sherlock was always a bright child and was actually a consulting detective for a while and he helped me get involved with the Yard. He made his wish a few years ago that he would meet a true friend. That friend turned out to be a Dr. John Watson. They currently reside in Sussex. Is the bee keeping going well?"

"Oh, yes. Sherlock says that he will be sending the both of us a few jars of honey and beeswax candles soon. He has been saying that a few months so I would not hold out on that," Mycroft said.

"Still up for that game of chess in a few days?" Jareth said, pulling at his gloves.

"Always," Mycroft said. The woman looked up for a moment, a small smile on her lips, before she returned to texting.

Sarah scratched her head through her hat, "So he's not..."

"Not what?" Jareth asked.

"I don't know... a criminal mastermind?" Sarah asked.

"Close enough," Jareth said with an ever so slight amount of venom in his tone.

"For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government," Mycroft said, amused at Sarah's imagination.

"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British secret service or the CIA on a freelance basis. Good day, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic," Jareth nodded his head and started to walk away slowly, knowing Sarah would soon be behind him. His hearing was sharp enough that he could hear them farther than most humans could.

"So, when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, of course," Mycroft said, indignant at the question.

"I mean... you're okay with him and everything?" Sarah said.

"Why would I have a problem? I solved the Labyrinth with few problems and my brother is happy. The only problem I have with Jareth is the messes he makes and the fact that my brother could do so much more as a detective or a scientist or anything besides a beekeeper," Mycroft said with a sigh.

"Yeah... um... I'm just, going to go now," Sarah said. She paused at the woman. "Hello."

"Hello," the woman said.

"We met earlier," Sarah said.

"Oh!" the woman said as if she had just remembered. _What a dolt._

"Okay. Goodnight, I mean, good morning," Sarah said as she ran to catch up to Jareth.

"Good day, Ms. Williams," Mycroft said.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Sarah said when she was a step behind Jareth.

"Moriarty," Jareth said, grinning slightly.

"Moriarty. The thing the cabbie mentioned? What is it?" Sarah asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I have absolutely no idea, but I will find out," Jareth said, putting his hands into his pockets.

They made quite the pair, the Fae in the green scarf and the girl in the red and white stripped hat.

&%&%&%

After a quick breakfast, the duo returned to 221B Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson greeted them at the door. "Dearies, you have several visitors. I am afraid that I am a bit overwhelmed by them."

"It would not happen to be goblins and their King, would it?" Jareth asked.

"Yes, King Rossetti is waiting for you upstairs. Inform the miscreants that they are not to scuff up my ceilings again," Mrs. Hudson said.

"The Goblin King is here?" Sarah asked.

Jareth took Sarah's arm. "Worried?"

Sarah snorted. "I hardly doubt that this Goblin King is any scarier than you were."

"Do bring us some tea, would you Mrs. Hudson?" Jareth said as he walked up the stairs with Sarah.

"Not your housekeeper," Mrs. Hudson said as she went to make the tea.

Jareth paused outside the closed door. He was tired both physically and emotionally. The faint projections from Sarah confirmed to him that she was just as exhausted. Not that Rossetti would care. Jareth straightened, took a deep breath, and walked into the living room.

Sarah gasped when she saw the King. "You're the Goblin King? But... but you're a girl! Shouldn't you be the Goblin Queen?" Sarah asked.

Rossetti smirked. "What? Did you think that the title of Goblin King only belonged to males? For shame, Sarah."

Jareth went to one knee. "Your majesty," he said.

"Rise, Jareth," the Goblin King said as she smoothed her black skirts.

As he rose, Jareth caught out of the corner of his eye Sarah making a quick curtsy. _Why didn't she ever do that for me?_

"May I ask a question Goblin King?" Sarah asked.

"Possibly," Rossetti said.

"You wouldn't happen to be Christiana Rossetti, would you? Author of 'The Goblin Market'?" Sarah asked.

Rossetti laughed. "Oh, that little thing. Yes, I wrote that to annoy Jareth. That poem is a bunch of hogwash."

"It's Hoggle!" the dwarf said as he came out of the kitchen with a sandwich for the Goblin King.

"What a vain dwarf you are, Hoggle. Not every conversation is about you," Rossetti said, mischief lighting her eyes. She accepted the sandwich and took a bite. With a wave of her hands, the Goblin King allowed Jareth and Sarah to sit.

"So, you called upon my goblins when there was a runner," Rossetti said.

"It's my fault," Sarah said, "I forgot about the runner when I called for help."

"Don't worry," Rossetti said, "The Labyrinth has to protect wishers as well as distract runners. Do not, however, call upon my goblins on a whim. Those little parties you have thrown are getting on my nerves. You make a good sandwich dwarf."

"I won't stop them from coming on their own," Sarah said.

Rossetti finished her next bit of sandwich before answering. "They would not be goblins if they did not cause a little chaos. After all, we are of both and neither of the Courts."

"You mean the Seelie and Unseelie Courts, right?" Sarah asked.

The Goblin King nodded. "I believe your _Dungeons and Dragons_would refer to those of the Goblin Kingdom as 'chaotic neutral'. Except for Sir Didymus. He is some strange mix of lawful good and chaotic good. I haven't the faintest on what to do with that crafty little fox."

Sarah began to laugh hysterically. "Oh good grief. First, a Goblin King who models himself after an 80's rock star and now a Goblin King who knows what D&D is." Sarah fell to the ground, continuing her chuckles.

"Sarah has not slept in about twenty-four hours your majesty," Jareth said, both embarrassed and amused by Sarah's outburst.

"I see that," the Goblin King said.

"Is there any other reason for your visit?" Jareth asked.

"I had the goblins place Sarah's things in her bedroom here. She is beloved by my people and I expect you to treat her well. Otherwise I will do what the Courts wished to have done to you," Rossetti said, "You should tuck the poor girl in before she hurts herself."

"Of course, your majesty," Jareth said, nodding his head.

Sarah's giggling had stopped and she was breathing slowly. She was quickly falling asleep. Jareth gently picked the Champion of the Labyrinth up in his arms and she seemed to relax more as he did it. Rossetti shooed away her court.

"Jareth, you were seven months and nine days off from being returned from exile. Why did you touch Labyrinth magic?" Rossetti said.

Jareth rested his head against Sarah's. "Is it not obvious?"

The Goblin King rubbed her forehead. "The Courts will never let you have the Goblin Kingdom back. You should have..."

"I know the consequences, Christiana. The Labyrinth's magic was killing her and I could not call upon you to help her. I could not stand by and... and watch her die when I could do something about it," Jareth said. He paused before continuing, "You will make a great Goblin King. I give you my blessing."

Rossetti stood up and gently touched Jareth's face with a gloved hand. "My friend, I hope you will be well with her and she will be well with you."

"As do I," Jareth said.

The Goblin King disappeared from 221B Baker Street just as Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs with her tray of tea.

"What's wrong? Did I missing something?" Sarah asked through her sleepy haze as she was placed on her bed.

Jareth smiled and stroked her hair. "Nothing, Sarah. Nothing, tra la la."

"Wake me up if there is another case," Sarah said, curling up as Jareth pulled a blanket over her, "I don't want you getting hurt."

"Of course I will, precious. You are my Champion after all."

Jareth looked around the room as he sat in a chair by Sarah's bed. The goblins had already attempted to organize things but it was actually a bigger mess than if they had just left the boxes.

The former Goblin King smiled at the girl who bested him. It would not be easy but he was more than willing to deal with may come. Even if it meant confronting this "Moriarty" creature.

&%&%&%

A/N: That chapter came out with much more angst than I originally intended. *glares at Jareth* You and your 80's angst. For shame old man. For shame.

If you have not read up on Christiana Rossetti's life, do. I did not realize when I started how apt she was to be Goblin King. (She fought to help under-age girls from being made prostitutes along with many other noble causes. I have always envisioned the Goblin King as a protector of children.)

Yes, when the duo are walking away from Mycroft is when this story and the original picture crossover.

I got the idea of "king" being a gender neutral term from _Dealing with Dragons _by Patricia C. Wrede. If you haven't read it, do it! It is an amazing book (and an amazing series). It really did a lot for my views on fantasy.

Coming up: Epilogue


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat and Gatiss,

Henson and Doyle,

Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth..." by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

&%&%&%

_One Week Later_

A goblin popped out of one of the kitchen cabinets with a sealed letter in his hand. "For Lord Jareth!" he announced.

Jareth looked up from his examination of tobacco ash and took the letter, nodding regally to his former subject. It was from the Goblin King.

_Dear Jareth,_

_I hope that you are settling in well with your flatmate. My subjects speak highly of this Champion and I know that you are set on her. Don't scare her off you bumbling idiot. _

_And don't pretend to be all "I am so debonair no woman can resist my charms". You, my friend, are a romantic dork, especially with this girl. Honestly, you idiot. Grand romantic gestures are terrifying when first starting out. Start small. Work your way up to "I will be your slave" and all that gooey-romantic-junk._

_Anyway, are we still on for poker on Wednesday if you do not have a case? If so, may Sarah join? I feel so lonely in this boy's club._

_Oh, the goblins are bringing you a little present. Hopefully it will clear up any technology issues._

_Fondest wishes,_

_Your Dear Kinsman, Rossetti_

"Uh, Jareth, that doesn't look like a goblin," Sarah said, pointing to a creature four goblins were carrying over their heads, "If I didn't know that it was a movie, I would say that it was a gremlin."

"It is a gremlin. They existed long before the movie," Jareth said, "though they are a newer part of the Underground. They did not exist until roughly the first steam engine. That was when they got their king, at least. As you may have guessed, there is not an extensive amount of technology in the Underground."

"Except for the Humongous."

"Which fell apart almost immediately by that blasted Hogsbreath."

"Hoggle."

The gremlin was unceremoniously dumped before the former Goblin King. It hissed at the goblins and was about to attack when Jareth picked it up the scruff of its neck.

"I see that the Goblin King has brought me a prisoner," Jareth said, "What would a gremlin have need with a former king?"

"You insulted our king! We want our revenge! Your mother was an aardvark!" the gremlin growled.

"Watch your language," Sarah said, waving her Nutella covered butter knife at the furry creature.

The gremlin began to squeal at the sight of Sarah. "Not the girl! Not that girl!"

Jareth rolled his eyes. "I see your reputation precedes you, Sarah. Now, how did I insult your king?"

The gremlin stopped squirming and squealing. "I... don't remember."

Jareth covered his eyes with his free hand. "Why do the Fair Folk have such spotty memories?"

Sarah laughed. "Like you're one to talk."

"Tell your king that he needs to stop attacking my possessions or Sarah will go after him with her amazing ability to turn a kingdom upside down."

"Yes sir," the gremlin said.

Jareth tossed the gremlin out of the room and went back to his experiment. "Hopefully that will put them off for a while."

"Jareth, what did you do to the Gremlin King?"

The former Goblin King shrugged. "I have no idea. I do not think that I have actually met the Gremlin King. The Fair Folk are rather sensitive creatures."

A few more goblins entered, carrying a large box. Another goblin appeared from one of the cabinets with a letter. "For Lady Sarah."

Sarah thanked the goblin and read the letter.

_Dear Lady Sarah Williams, Champion of the Labyrinth,_

_Thank you very much for putting up with Lord Jareth. He needs someone to watch out for him and you would be perfect for the job. For surviving a week with the, as you put it, "glitter bomb", I present to you a pair of goblin made boots. It gets quite cold in London I have been told and you will have an awful lot of running to do with Lord Jareth. Goblin shoes are both beautiful and functional. _

_If Lord Jareth does not mention it, you are invited to Wednesday night's poker game. I think the company shall include Loki, Hermes, Puck, Lord Jareth, and myself._

_Do be careful with Lord Jareth. He has had a rough time even before your run. _

_Have a fair day._

_Sincerely,_

_The Goblin King, Rossetti_

_P. S. Jareth hates eggplant. Do cook some up for Wednesday for me to throw them at him._

Sarah removed the boots from the box and put them on. "Oh, they feel like slippers."

"Rossetti is spoiling you," Jareth said, "Though I doubt she wanted you to strut about in them in your Kermit pajamas."

"If that is your way of saying that I need to stop being lazy, you have no room to speak. You're just wearing a sheet."

Jareth shrugged. "I am used to walking about in nothing, Sarah. I guessed that you would be offended by such a display. I am more than willing to return to my previous ways if it would please you, precious."

"Call me precious one more time and there will be nothing for you to display," Sarah said.

Before Jareth could respond, his cellphone rang. "Hello? Lestrade? What seems to be the problem? Oh, well, we'll be right over. Sarah, it appears that there has been a strange murder. Up for the challenge?"

With a smirk, Sarah said, "It will be a piece of cake."

&%&%&%

A/N: The term "gremlins" was not used until the World War II. Pilots would blame gremlins for issues with their aircraft. I decided to make them a bit older in history because, to quote Tumblr, "I do what I want".

If anyone catches the Chameleon Circuit reference, I shall squee in joint geekiness.

Thank you for reading! The encouragement I have received from you readers has been wonderful and far more than I expected. Thank you once again.

The next chapter of our dynamic duo is "The Blonde Babe" a.k.a. "The Blind Banker" is already being written. I hope to have it finished by the end of January.

Until Our Next Meeting.


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